#stranger things next generation introductions

[alexiroflife]

"possession"

ryomen sukuna x reader [modern au]

Synopsis: you meet a strange, attractive man whose god complex that you have yet to discover proves to interfere with both your self-respect and the law.

to sum it up: sukuna is a man who sees himself above all people and is obsessed with you. when he gets jealous, he copes in sadistic ways

WC: 8,540

Warning(s): violence, mentions & use of a weapon, death/homicide, yandere themes, possessiveness, vulgar language

Your body trembled viciously as his figure stood over you, tall, prideful, and oh so frightening.

Your vision was blurry. You could hardly see what was standing directly before you due to the stress of the previous events and the tears that blurred your vision. Your hands gripped each shoulder as though your own body heat was the only thing that could save you now. 

Unfortunately for you, however, nothing could save you from the looming presence of Ryomen Sukuna, black painted nails releasing the trigger of the gun he’d just pulled on your now deceased coworker.

It wasn’t that you liked the recent victim of Sukuna’s wrath any more than the next stranger. In fact, you had deemed him to be rather annoying. He had always found ways to pop himself into your day to day, whether it was by lingering next to your cubicle at the office for ten minutes too long before lunch, running into him on a whim at the grocery store and finding yourself subjected to his poor attempts at getting you to spend one on one time with him outside of the office, or waking up to a new follower on your Instagram- his name and profile greeting you desperately when you glanced at the screen.

You knew exactly what he was after, but you had paid him no mind. You were hardly a stranger to advances from acquaintances or passerbyers. After all, as well as your looks, you carried yourself in such a way that exuded class and mystery, poise and effortless beauty. You didn’t speak much to those who were not close to you, which was perhaps why you had gained so much attention. Your silent charm needed little to no verbal introduction from yourself. You caught enough glances simply by minding your own, keeping to yourself, and accomplishing your goals all rather contently. You did not desire the attention of other men, which, luck would come to have, was why you had always subconsciously gained it.

And gaining Sukuna’s had been a fluke all on its own. 

The man kept to himself just as much as you did, but in a far less innocent way. He lurked about, observing, judging, despising, taking it upon himself to dispose of any being he deemed a pestilence to his existence. The god complex Sukuna embraced alone was enough to send you running, but for some reason when he first approached you, you did the exact opposite.

He was forward. Brazen. He had observed you days before actually meeting you, walking mutely into your office building from a nearby alleyway. He watched your thighs shift with each movement you took beneath the tight pencil skirt you adorned, heels clacking against the pavement deliciously. Though you had a reserved energy about you, you kept your chin held high and your eyes forward. You weren’t hiding, per say, but you were entirely too occupied with your own business to bother keeping up with the business of those around you. You weren’t shy, you were focused. Attentive. Not easily distracted.

Sukuna could not have understood why your presence intrigued him so much, to the point where he was waiting around your place of work until you clocked out, following you home, and memorizing the path you took to and fro so that he could organize a way to force himself into your life. Sukuna had witnessed and learned so much of humanity, how people concerned themselves so heavily with matters of each other to the point where they allowed their incomprehensible need to stick themselves into all matters led them to war, death, and the collapse of civilizations simply for them to be rebuilt by the next generations and for the same patterns too continue.

Human beings were so incessantly concerned with how others viewed them, with how the next person would react to the way they put one foot in front of the other, with whether their family members approved of their lifestyles or if their friends thought their hobbies were intriguing.

It was truly pathetic how human beings lived for each other, how many women so pitifully clung to his arm for a chance to even be considered someone he would spare a second glance at. Sukuna enjoyed the submission when it served him well, but Christ, were they all so whiny and needy, so desperate for someone else to see and love them when Sukuna made it perfectly clear in each circumstance that he could care less about what a weak girl could do for him beyond sexual subservience. 

But you, you did not even look at him when you brushed past him and into the cafe that you visited regularly. You hardly even spared him a glance when he approached you at the counter as you were waiting for your coffee. It had angered him at first. Truly enraged him to see you refuse him so politely without even having to say a word or spare a glance. You could not have cared less what he wanted to say or had to offer, and it pissed him off but simultaneously sparked a desire to control you. One that he had not experienced for quite some time. You would make him work for it, and that in itself sparked his interest.

He wanted to own you, to possess you. He wanted you to belong to him, for you to come at his beck and call, for you to abandon your selfishness and crawl to him on your knees, crying, pleading for his touch and affection. He wanted you to be a mess at his feet, to be his plaything, his pet. He wanted to conquer you and bring those pretty (e/c) eyes of yours to tears as they finally snapped up to look at him. 

“You,” his voice had greeted you gruffly. 

You jerked slightly, turning to your left to find a tall figure leaning against the counter beside you. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed him before. Your mind had been running over a project you had been assigned last minute in your head, and you were so occupied with your thoughts that you had completely missed the intimidating presence wafting off of the figure beside you. 

He was a sight to look at, you had to internally admit to yourself. Spiky salmon hair splayed across his forehead and crimson eyes the shade of fresh blood boring into yours. His build beneath a black sweatshirt and sweatpants was bulky, muscles stretching the sleeves of the almost loose fabric. His eyes were bored, yet his brows were angled as though he were agitated. What for, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t help but shift beneath his unwavering gaze, for he stared at you as if you were the only person standing in the cafe. 

You glanced behind you, looking around to find the person this odd man may have been addressing instead, but when you found no one you turned back around. “Me?”

His lips quirked up at the corners, a smile threatening to touch his mouth. “Who else does it look like I’m talking to?”

His voice was so deep, it practically rumbled the floor beneath your feet. He spoke lowly to ensure that you knew he was speaking directly to you, but his words were crisp and perfectly clear. 

You were unsure of how to respond. Guys had approached you many times, but never in such a straightforward, expecting fashion. Never with such power, such overarching confidence that made you think just for a moment that you would stay a while to share a word or two with him. 

“Can I… help you?” you asked cautiously, uncertainty swirling through your mind.

“What a silly question,” he sighed, tilting his head as his bicep pressed into the marble of the countertop, one knee bent while the other stretched out so that he was lounging rather casually in the way of the ‘pick up’ window. 

His eyes glinted with mischief, shamelessly roaming over your body. You had the sense to take a small step back, which only fueled Sukuna’s lust for dominance over you. You watched as a wide smirk settled on his face, eyes drifting lazily back up to yours. 

“Are you scared of me?”

The question caught you off guard. You could feel your lips curling in discomfort against your mind’s will, yet your heart panged with what you could not differentiate between what was either excitement or unease. His eyes carried such vibrancy as they danced across you, almost as though they weren’t human. Though unnerving at first glance, the man surely was attractive in a rather unusual, alarming way.

The way his lips, however, stretched over sharp pearly teeth with a smile that could only mean that he was up to no good struck your hesitant curiosity. 

“I don’t know, should I be?” you questioned in return, raising a brow.

How unassuming and bold you were.

He replied with only a smug grin, tilting his head back as he gazed at you over his nose. “What’s your name?”

“Why should I tell you? I don’t know who you are.”

“That’s precisely why I’m asking. So we can get to know each other,” he hummed. 

God, every red flag was waving aggressively in the back of your mind, screaming at you to take off into another direction, to turn away, grab your coffee, and walk out like nothing happened, but there was something deep within you that kept you planted there. Was it intrigue? Attraction? Perhaps a spell that had been cast on you to make you forfeit any pinch of sense you had left?

You weren’t sure, but whatever it was made you want to stay. You wanted to see where this would go, what line this oddball would throw at you to try to get you to come home with him. 

You were nothing but completely and utterly curious.

But you know what they say about curiosity.

It kills.

You weren’t going to tell him your name, at least. You were smart enough to attempt to keep that barrier, but the universe had other plans. Before you could say anything more, the barista reached forward and slammed a styrofoam cup before you.

“Order for (Y/n)!” she announced loudly, looking directly at you with kind eyes. “Here you go, see you tomorrow!”

You smiled tightly, swiping the drink up in your hand. “Thanks, have a good one,” you said through a strained breath and clenched jaw. 

The pink haired stranger pushed himself off of the counter slowly. He hummed intriguingly, half lidded eyes eating you alive. “(Y/n),” he repeated, your name rolling off his tongue like a prayer.

You shivered.

He held out a hand before you, the other shoved into his pocket. You examined it, the veins running across the back of his palm, the dark paint on his fingertips, the peak of tattoos sliding sheepishly out of his sweatshirt sleeve. 

“Ryomen Sukuna.”

You didn't know what demon on earth possessed you to grasp his hand and shake it.

From that point on, Sukuna kept his interactions with you secluded to the cafe. He would wait for you to walk in, share a few words with you, hit on you shamelessly, then watch you walk to work from his spot at the counter. 

You convinced yourself that there was no harm in the matter if he was only speaking to you in a public space. Though it was strange that he only came to the cafe to see you and that he never ordered anything, you figured it was better than him trying to turn up to your place of work or follow you after you had grabbed your morning coffee.

Sukuna observed you meticulously each time he saw you. You stepped out of the house very professionally, with your hair pinned up and your clothes modestly hugging your figure. You wore a bra and underwear beneath your clothing to maintain an appropriate appearance at work, which aggravated him to no end. 

You wore little makeup over your face. Just a bit to cover a scar here or there and eyeliner to accentuate the shape of your eyes and gloss to coat your plump lips. 

You had also grown more expecting of his company. While you remained reserved to some extent, you engaged in subtle banter with him each time he pushed his advances.

“Still holding out on me, princess?” he would ask with a sinister smirk.

“Don’t call me that.” you would reply, turning your head to hide the amused smile that touched your lips. 

Thoughts of your lip gloss smearing over his mouth snapped into his mind at the very sight of your smile. He was going to ruin you.

Sukuna normally was not one for waiting, but he decided he would make an exception just this once. He wanted to make you feel safe, to ease into the attraction he knew that you felt toward him. He knew that if he tried to force you into him so early on, you’d turn away. And normally that wouldn’t have been a problem for him, but this was a game of minds. He needed you to want it before he moved, he needed you to prove that your facade of disinterest would fade and only fade for the sake of his domination over you, and he needed you to want it so badly that you’d cry for it. 

So, he took his time. 

Three weeks in, he asked to walk you to work. 

Who were you to say no now that the two of you had grown so acquainted? What was the harm in a walk, after all?

On that walk alone, however, Sukuna observed something else about you. He observed how men’s eyes would linger each time you walked past and how you kept your gaze forward, completely numb to or unbothered by or disinterested in the stares. He noticed how quickly men would jump to hold the door for you when he would stop just at the entrance of your office building, glaring down at the poor soul who had managed to reach the door before he got a chance to. He noticed how consumed others were by your presence, how easily you made people stop and stare without trying or without caring. Sukuna knew thousands of women who fought ten times as hard to get half of the attention that was bestowed upon you throughout your daily life, and yet you did not care. 

He could not understand what it was about you as he lifted his foot from the puddle of blood and brains he had stomped in hours after he had tracked down the poor sap who’s eyes flashed over your concealed tits on your morning walk together. He could not understand how you, a human, carried such an enticing presence, how the number of hands he severed and tongues he ripped out doubled over instead of reducing. How, no matter how many of those filthy pests he slaughtered for even glancing your way, there would still be more, and more, and more. 

He was growing restless. 

Over a month had passed, and Sukuna had yet to throw himself onto you. He himself was not even sure why by this point. He knew everything about you. What time you woke up in the morning, what your morning routine entailed, how you liked your coffee made from the cafe, the things you enjoyed talking about and looking at on route to work, the projects you worked on, what your favorite meal at lunch was, what time you clocked out, the days you put in overtime, what time you went to sleep- he had completely engraved himself into your life when it should have been the other way around, but for the first time in his life, he just did not know how to proceed. You were different, you were strange, you were just as much of a brat as any other woman, but you peaked his interest so much that it was enough for him to pause and ask why.

And Lord, you were gorgeous, one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen. Your (s/c) skin, your (h/c) hair, your supple figure, your laugh, your smile. You belonged with him, you were meant to be his, but fucking hell, he was beginning to grow impatient. 

He knew that to some extent he was succeeding at getting you to be his, too. You were talkative, sarcastic, playful with him. Your eyes constantly met him when you talked and you had begun looking for him everywhere, in everything you did, in everything you felt. He had become a constant in your routine so quickly that the thought of him not nearby had begun to feel strange. 

The tension that carried between the two of you was hardly a secret either. His eyes were heavy with desire, deep and mesmerizing, voice smooth like the slither of a serpent’s each time he bent over to whisper a joke into your ear or lowly call your name in address. His frame could put that of a god’s to shame though he often kept his muscles concealed due to the dreary weather, and his hands, oh his hands. The way they pressed to the small of your back to move you out of the way of something in your path, or reached to grab your coffee before you could and lift it to your lips, or how his veins bulged each time he grasped the handle of a door for you. 

You wanted him bad. You couldn’t deny it anymore, but you still hardly knew him. He hadn’t revealed anything about his personal life to you other than his name. He didn’t work by the looks of it, and you had no idea where he was from or where he lived. He was a basket case, but that surely was not enough to ease the ache between your thighs that came each time he spoke to you, voice dripping with playful lust. 

Sukuna could see you gradually melting before him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he wanted more, he had to have more from you, but what could he get without pouncing on you and springing at the wrong time? 

“Have dinner with me.”

You paused before the door to your office building, turning to face Sukuna with parted lips. You needed to clock in within the next five minutes, but the crimson eyed man’s request had thrown you off kilter.

“Huh?” you breathed.

His face was hard, rather emotionless. His hand gripped the door above your head, his arm hovering over you as he looked down into your eyes. He looked deadly serious, not a trace of amusement anywhere to be found on his face.

“You heard me, woman,” he said gruffly. He leaned down, closing in on you, nose inches away from yours. “Have dinner with me.”

You had never been flustered by a man before. You were raised to be unaffected by their advances, to find little enchantment in the bare minimum that man graciously brought forward as though it was the world on wings. You had always been indifferent to men’s responses to your beauty, to their inviting hand, to their promises and boasts and pretty lies. You had wanted none of it, for you found your occupation and making a living for yourself to be far more important than matters of another man’s heart.

But the way Sukuna was looking at you, the way he caged you in as his gaze drank in the sight of you, the forwardness of his tone signifying that he would not take no for an answer, the mahogany scent emanating from his clothing and skin. He was intoxicating, and you both knew it, but for some reason you could not fight the burn in your cheeks and the rush of your blood. 

“Are you asking me out, Sukuna?” you whispered.

His name sounded fucking incredible on your lips, where it belonged. He wanted to hear more. He needed to hear more. For fuck’s sake, he was tired of waiting. Tired of this little game he had forced himself to play. He needed you. 

“You’re not an idiot, you know damn well what I’m doing.”

He was always so mean, the way he talked. Mean and vulgar and you shouldn’t have been aroused by it, but you were desperate for him. You liked him and you wanted him. Why? You weren’t sure.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?” Sukuna groaned. “Dinner. Tonight.”

“Ask me nicely and I’ll think about it.”

The tan skinned man’s teeth ground together, eyes slimming in agitation. You were so mouthy. He could have left you high and dry, completely abandoned this whole ordeal for giving him so much attitude, but he shamefully enjoyed it. He enjoyed how you tested your limits with him and how you didn’t even care about doing so. He enjoyed how you thought you had control, though you only held it because he was giving it to you for the time being. 

He wanted to shut you up so badly, to throw you around, to wipe away that confidence instilled in you. 

So he asked you to dinner.

“Don’t order me around, you brat.”

“Well then I guess I’ll have to turn down the offer,” you shrugged. You were quick to turn over your shoulder, leaving Sukuna reeling in shock. “Thanks for the walk. I’ll see you for lunch, yeah?”

Sukuna used his free hand to snatch your wrist in his and yank you back into him. You stumbled, a squeak squeezing past your throat as your body clumsily clashed into his. Your eyes went wide, your cute lips finally clamped shut. You stared up at him innocently, like a deer in headlights.

How cute you would have looked with that face if you were down on your knees before him.

He breathed in slowly, eyes raking over your face as he squeezed your wrist gently, holding you close to him. You could feel his breath fanning against your cheek. You looked down, face blazing and heart thudding so loud you were sure Sukuna could feel it against his chest.

He smiled.

“Cut that out and look at me when I talk to you,” he demanded, releasing your wrist to tilt your chin up with his index finger. Your glossy (e/c) eyes met his once more, the space between the two of you so small it should have been a sin.

“Sukuna, I-I need to get to work-”

“Not until you say yes,” he interjected, gripping your chin softly. “No games. Come have dinner with me. I’ll pick you up at nine.” He raised his brows, tilting his head up. “Hm?”

You could barely find the words to give him an answer. “I didn’t peg you for a dinner kind of guy,” you murmured, mind growing fuzzy with the feeling of his fingers on your chin holding you in place so that you couldn’t look away. 

“That wasn’t an answer, (Y/n),” he mumbled firmly. “Dinner. Yes or no.”

You were hardly sure that he was going to let you say no, but you responded as though you had a choice in the matter anyway, for you couldn’t deny the eagerness that sparked in your gut when he proposed the notion.

He continued staring, waiting, watching. Eventually, you nodded as though in a trance, eyes never breaking away from him. “Okay.”

Sukuna grinned, finally releasing you from his hold. “Wonderful. I’ll see you tonight, then.” 

You stumbled back, slightly discombobulated, unsure of whether what just transpired was a trick of your mind or indeed reality. 

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself again, turning mechanically to enter the building as Sukuna proceeded to hold the door. 

He could feel an urge for misconduct overtaking him as his smirk widened, watching in anticipation as you walked away. He had you exactly where he wanted you. 

He was about to release the door when he felt a man brush past him and into the doorway, having taken advantage of a gesture that had been meant for only the girl ahead. “Hey, thanks man!” the brunette called over his shoulder halfheartedly.

Normally, Sukuna would have been irritated, but would have blown it off simply because he didn’t feel like bothering with such an insignificant interaction. He would have likely kicked his foot out so the guy could trip and then he’d go on about his day, leaving behind whatever idiot who sought to leech off of him out of pure convenience, especially since it seemed that this man was running late.

Sukuna would have walked away, thinking about all the ways he would consummate his possession over you within the next few hours leading up to your date without a single care in the world if what happened next had not caught his eye.

He watched the brunette, hair messy atop his head and a briefcase clutched under his arm, rush up behind you and gently touch your waist with his hand in greeting. You turned to identify the owner of this hand and visibly grew bored when your eyes landed on the kid’s face, but he proceeded to attempt to entertain you. 

“You look nice today,” he had said. “Did you do something different with your hair?” he had said. “I followed you on Instagram last night, you should follow me back.” 

You had not even responded with anything more than a disinterested hum as the two of you rounded the corner to the elevators, out of Sukuna’s sight. You didn’t care, but oh, did Sukuna find far more fault in that interaction than you did.

His smile completely wiped from his face and the door slammed in front of him after releasing it. The muscles in his eye twitched, his pupils shrank, and nose flared. He stood ominously still, frozen in his own rage, and something snapped inside him. 

How dare that guy touch what was his?

This led you to where you sat crouched in the alleyway. Your date was meant to begin thirty minutes ago. 

You had dressed up pretty in a small black dress and heels, hair down, legs bare, and chest exposed. You were a pure sight for sore eyes, drop dead gorgeous, and Sukuna was sure to tell you when he arrived at your home after you had texted him your address. Of course,  you hadn’t known that Sukuna already knew full well where you lived. 

You noticed something off about him the moment you opened the door. He wore a navy button up that was free of its first three buttons, leaving his chest tattoos exposed. His shirt was also untucked over wrinkled pants, and while you hardly expected him to dress like royalty, there was something rather… sloppy about the way he appeared before you that night.

And his eyes, those bright red eyes were alight with passion. A crazed look touched his irises as they gleamed in the street light. His hair was slightly ruffled too, and a wide, eerie smile revealed each and every one of his sharp, pearly whites. He did not look well, not mentally, and at that moment, you could feel your heart begin to sink to your toes upon the realization that something very wrong was about to happen. 

He pulled you out of your doorway without even giving you a chance to lock the door and led you to a coupe parked sloppily next to your apartment complex. He held the door for you, and against your better judgment, you stepped in, wanting to blame your sudden discomfort on nerves or paranoia. 

Sukuna rounded the car with thudding footsteps, throwing himself into the driver’s seat and pulling off with alarming speed. You kept your hands folded in your lap, eyes staring blankly ahead as your heart thudded against your ribcage. Sukuna was acting so strange, almost manic. Perhaps he struggled with mania and was having an episode? Or maybe he was just as anxious as she was, and was acting strangely due to nerves over his first date after a long time alone? 

You wanted to make excuses for him so badly, to believe that this was some kind of misunderstanding, but deep in your gut, you knew that you were in danger. You knew that something was off and that this night was heading into a dark direction.

Sukuna said nothing as he drove, the sound of tires screeching against the pavement the only sound filling the rather empty silence. You tried to regulate your breathing, looking out the window frantically to attempt to memorize the twists and turns you took about the city. It wasn’t long before the car was slowing down, rounding an empty street and turning into a secluded alleyway. 

You began to panic. It was dark and completely vacant aside from Sukuna’s car, which was now parked in the middle of nowhere. You sat up, whipping your head around to attempt to grasp an understanding of where you were and how you got here. Your eyes were blown wide and your panting had now grown audible.

Sukuna released the stick shift and leaned back, taking notice of your antsy behavior. He cooed, turning the car off and leaning over to you, resting his elbow on the back of his seat rest and grazing the back of your hair with his free hand. 

You jumped, pressing your back into the corner against the window and curling your knees to your chest. You looked horrified, like a poor antelope facing the hunger of a lioness. Sukuna had previously thought that he wouldn’t have gotten off on this fear from you, but hell, had he been wrong. The freight in those glossy eyes, the wobble of your lips, the way your breasts threatened to pool out of the fabric of your dress with each heavy breath you took. He loved it. 

“Come now, don’t fuss,” he urged gently, hand reaching to brush the side of your cheek. You tried to tilt your head up and away, but there was nowhere for you to run. “You don’t think I’m gonna hurt you now, do you?”

Your mind played a trick on you. Perhaps he wasn’t going to hurt you. Were you overreacting? Allowing your anxiety to motivate your reaction instead of logic? 

You gulped a breath of air, eyes darting around frantically as Sukuna’s thumb brushed your cheekbone. “Wh-” you breathed. “Why are we here? What’s going on? Sukuna, where did you take me?”

That breathtaking, troublesome smile appeared on Sukuna’s face again as he admired her. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” he spoke giddily, like a man on the verge of a mental break. “Don’t be so quick to go crazy on me. Relax.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, confused, afraid. You didn’t like this one bit. You didn’t like the look in Sukuna’s eye that accompanied the chaotic driving and the bizarre atmosphere. 

You swallowed down a pool of saliva, body shaking involuntarily.

Ruby eyes melted over your body, watching the way your flesh trembled with your limbs.

“You dressed all pretty for me, huh? Tryin’ to get lucky on our first date, princess?”

“Sukuna,” you whimpered, pressing yourself further into the glass. “Why did you take me here?”

He stared at you for a few seconds longer before a hefty sigh filled his chest. He leaned back into his seat, pushing the car door open swiftly. “I’ll show you in a second. Be patient.”

The car door slammed behind him after he stumbled out. Your body jerked and you began to panic once more. You tried to shrink in on yourself, to make everything go away. You tried to gaslight yourself one more time into thinking that this ‘surprise’ would be pleasant, that this was some kind of twisted joke that Sukuna wanted to play and you’d be back at a nice restaurant in minutes. 

You wanted to tell yourself that you wouldn’t have agreed to this date if you had believed Sukuna to be dangerous, but you couldn’t even convince yourself of that for more than a second. 

Your gut instinct had been warning you to stay away from the man the second you met him. He was always isolated, yet he was charming. Alarmingly so. He placed himself into your life, stalking around for you at a coffee shop and waiting until you were comfortable for him to start asking to walk you to work. You had given him your number, your work address, your home address, access to your personal life, access to your vulnerability, and all the while your gut was begging you to turn away, to let this idea of this attractive man go before you got hurt.

But you stupidly chalked it all up to unwarranted paranoia, to fear of growing close to someone after having been closed off for all those years. You thought that something within you was trying to hold you back from finding happiness, that though Sukuna was hardly the person you would go for, you could have given him a chance, even if it was casually. 

And that mouth of his should have been the telltale sign. The way he ordered things rather than asked for them, the way he looked at you with such expectation in his eyes, as if he knew you would fall for him in only a matter of time, as if he had planned it all out so carefully. It was all so disquieting.

You thought that a month had been enough time to know someone, but boy, were you wrong. 

You shivered as the car rocked with the thrust of the trunk being opened. You could hear and feel a struggle as Sukuna lugged something heavy out from the back, the vehicle wobbling with the commotion. Suddenly, the car jumped forward as a thud hit the ground. 

Your brows arched, but you didn’t dare to turn to see what was happening behind you. You didn’t want your eyes to confirm the first, dreadful thought that popped into your hand.

Heavy footsteps rounded the car again and Sukuna was outside your window, pounding on the glass. You ripped yourself away, turning to face him with petrified eyes. He yanked the door open, reaching in and grabbing your forearm to pull you out. 

You cried out, horrified of what was to possibly come. Was he going to kill you?

“Shut the fuck up, Jesus,” he hissed, yanking you from your seat and pulling you onto your shaking feet. He closed the door behind you, pressing your body to him as you hyperventilated, hands tucked into you under your chin. “Shhh, quiet,” he pressed his lips to your ear, his voice lulling to a tender tone. “I won’t hurt you, but if you scream, I will have to punish you. Okay pretty girl?”

A weep broke past your lips as you scrunched your eyes closed, the reality of your situation crashing down like a tidal wave. 

His hand gripped the back of your neck tightly, your body tensing beneath him. “Okay?” You nodded hysterically, sniffling as tears brimmed your eyes. “Good girl. Come on, now.”

Sukuna’s hands pressed firmly to your waist, guiding you forward to behind the car. 

You didn’t open your eyes. You kept your face tucked to Sukuna’s chest, absolutely horrified to see what he was prepared to present to you. 

You felt Sukuna stop you from moving. You trembled as he leaned in close beside you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, firmly. 

A tear dribbled down your chin as you shook your head. “S-Sukuna, I can’t. Please-”

“Open. Your fucking. Eyes.”

With no other option, with no access to control, with your life at stake, you opened your eyes. 

Your vision took time to adjust at first. The darkness of the alley hardly allowed you the privilege to see much ahead of you, but as you casted your gaze down, Sukuna’s ‘gift’ registered within your sight.

You smacked a hand over your mouth, stifling a scream. Sukuna’s hands caressed your back softly as you took in the sight, breaths stuttering into feeble gasps.

There before you lay your coworker, the very coworker who had been persistently flirting with you since the moment you arrived at the office. He lay unconscious, mouth duct taped shut and ankles and wrists bound tightly by rope. 

But his face… you could hardly recognize it. It was bloodied and bruised beyond comprehension, features mangled into each other as though his head had been bashed in repeatedly. Blood matted into his chestnut hair and stained the white collar he walked into work wearing that very morning. 

He looked half dead.

“There, see?” Sukuna exhaled contentedly, moving to step around you. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he chuckled, gesturing his arms out as if presenting a show. You stood in shock, eyes wide and mouth agape behind your palms. Tears spilled down your chin, dripping onto the ground and over your fingers.

Sukuna lowered his arms, a perplexed expression meeting his face. “What?” he drawled out. “Don’t tell me you cared about the guy. You didn’t look too interested in hearing what he had to say this morning.” 

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t move. You were paralyzed with devastation, with heart stopping, blood curdling fear. 

Sukuna shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning over to examine the body at his feet nonchalantly.

“I mean, I can hardly see why you’d care about him now, of all times, either. He doesn’t even look like a person anymore.”

He raised his leg and landed a harsh kick to your coworker’s head, his skull snapping to the side then falling limply against the pavement. You choked out, tilting your head down to avoid the scene. 

Sukuna rolled his eyes. “Please, he’s just another insect at the end of a long line of pests I’ve killed for you.”

You stopped, lifting your bloodshot eyes to find Sukuna’s figure in the darkness. “W-What?”

“W-What?” the tan skinned man mocked, chuckling darkly afterward. “I told you before, you’re not an idiot. Stop acting like it.”

“What do you-” you lowered your trembled hands and revealed your tear drenched face. “You’ve… you’ve killed people before?”

“Again. You ask too many questions that you already know the answer to.”

Your skin went cold. You stumbled backward, tripping over your own heels and pushing yourself back against the brick wall. Your eyes were huge, terror-stricken, and your mascara was running, leaving dark streaks down your darling cheeks. 

What a pretty sight, Sukuna thought.

“What the fuck,” you hissed, head rolling on your shoulders as you registered this confession. 

Images of Sukuna reappeared in your head, the way he smiled at you upon greeting you at the cafe, how his eyes flooded with such passion when he looked at you, how he followed you around as if he never wanted to lose sight of you. 

And you had liked it. You had looked forward to it. You had fallen for it all. You had grown blind to the signs that were blaring all around you because you actually liked him.

And here he was, standing before you with your half dead coworker at his feet, telling you that he had killed before- and for you, at the matter. 

“What the fuck! What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” you cried, griping your hands in your hair. How could you have been so stupid?

“Here come the hysterics,” Sukuna grumbled.

“You- You’re a murderer! You’re a fucking murderer, and I let you- fuck!”

“‘Murderer’ is such a restrictive term,” Sukuna sighed. “That’s not what I am.”

“What the hell are you talking about! You’ve killed people! Look what you’ve done to a person I work with!”

“Princess, you have no idea what I am or what I can be,” he said deeply. He took a step forward, making slow strides over to you. You were quick to shuffle away, keeping your eyes glued to him as you tried to slither out of the space between the car and the wall. “I’m so much more than what you think,” he grinned. He sounded insane.

“Get the fuck away from me,” you barked. You were a mess, tripping over yourself, choking over your own words. Sukuna watched you, amused, taking his time as he approached you. “Get away!”

Your heel got caught against the rubber tire of Sukuna’s car, leading you to fall backward onto your back, your leg twisting beneath you. You winced, sweat beading your forehead as you looked up and found that Sukuna was already hovering over you.

He was slow to crouch down to meet your height. You leaned back on your elbows, watching as he leaned over you predatorily.

“Please,” you whined, anger melting into desperation. His red tinged palms reached out to your knees and slid up thighs, massaging the plush skin with lazy eyes and a lazy smile. “Please, Sukuna…”

“Keep begging, princess,” he slurred, craning his neck to press a soft kiss to your temple as he trapped you beneath his mass. You had never realized just how big he was until this very moment, his biceps caging over you and chest lingering inches away from your own. “It turns me on,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, twisting your head away. This was wrong. This was bad, he was going to harm you, but you still could not deny the way his warmth swallowed you whole and how the softness of his lips against your head almost manipulated you into forgetting what was happening. 

“C’mere, (Y/n),” he urged. “Don’t run from me.”

He pulled away to look down at you with those intoxicating eyes. 

“S-Sukuna, you’re a monster,” you stammered through hushed, heavy breaths. He seemed unfazed by the accusation, for he had been called many things before.

“Come. Now.”

You did not have another choice.

You cautiously pushed yourself up from the ground, allowing Sukuna to wrap his arms around you and pull you up into him. He sat up, bringing you along with him to sit atop his thigh. He lifted your legs over his and rested his hands on your upper thigh and lower bum.

You sat stiffly, head pressed against the car door from the angle you sat. “Look at me.”

You obeyed. 

He lifted his hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, smearing your mascara across your face. “You’re pretty when you cry.”

“S-Sukuna-”

“Quiet,” he snapped. “I’ve spent this past month doting on you. Trying to figure out why you caught my eye. When I first saw you in that tight skirt and those damn heels, I knew I wanted to fuck you.”

You stiffened, pressing your lips together tightly as he proceeded to wipe away at your tears.

“I know you wanna fuck me too, yeah?” he hummed. “But you’re not an easy girl. I see the way you act around men and how they act around you. You couldn’t give less of a fuck how they practically grovel at your feet. It’s kinda funny, you know? Seeing how pathetically you’ve got these people acting, but I’ll be damned if you don’t pay attention to me.”

His hand moved to cradle your jaw.

“I knew you were mine the second I spoke to you. But all these fucking insects keep trying to get in the way. Keep thinking they got a chance with you, so I have to put them in their place. Six feet under the ground.”

Your brows curled and your lips turned down, lump forming in your throat.

“But even so, none of those guys had the balls to touch you. They’d just look at you. Dream about you- dream about touching you. And that was enough for me to have to get rid of them, but then I saw the damndest thing this morning after I had just asked you out on a date.”

He jerked his head backward, gesturing to the body laying on the ground.

“This fucking moron walks past me and puts his hand on your waist, and starts telling you how pretty you are and all this shit. He was complimenting my woman. Touching my woman. Trying to fuck my woman. You know I had to do something about that, right? I couldn’t just let that slide, and I couldn't afford you making me look like a pussy.”

You furrowed your brows. “I wasn’t-”

“You’re mine,” he growled. He gathered your cheeks in his hand, yanking you close to him. You winced, scared eyes forced to stay on his for the umpteenth time. “You belong to me. Nobody else gets to touch you, nobody else gets to talk to you, and nobody else gets to breathe your air. You’ve given me the greatest headache of my fucking life and I won’t let a puny man try to challenge my name or try to take what rightfully belongs to me,” he spat, giving your head a jerk. “I’ve killed more people than that pretty little head of yours can count, and I’ll keep doing it as long as people like him so much as spare a glance into your direction. I’m done playing games with you, girl. You’re stuck with me.”

There was no air left for you to breathe, no room for you to even respond to what Sukuna was saying to you. The man hadn’t even properly tried to date you, and he had already taken ownership over your entire being, to the point where he had taken lives. 

He smiled condescendingly at you, taking in your sloppy features. “But you wanted that, didn’t you? You wanted to be mine?” He pulled you in, lips practically brushing your squished ones. “Say it. Tell me how much you want me.”

You hated how despite his heinous crimes, despite his brutality, despite his unbridled possession over you, you still reacted helplessly to his force, to his touch, to his voice, to his presence. Those eyes of his could have pulled you into a trance, devilish smirk churning something deep within your gut. 

He killed people. He was about to kill your coworker. He saw himself as a god, as above people. He was insane. He saw you as an object, something to physically possess. He didn’t respect you. He never did. It was about control.

But those eyes, but that voice, but those hands, but that goddamn smile. 

You were putty in his hands, though your mind screamed at you to push away and fight back, to call the police, to land a blow to his face. 

You were terrified of him, but he had you just where he wanted you. You were too weak. Weak for him. 

“Say it,” he teased, leaning further in, brushing his lips past yours and pressing them to your damp cheek. “Tell me you need me. Say my name.”

You hated yourself in that moment. God, you wanted to hate him too, and you did, but not enough to pull away. Not enough to fight back. Not enough to muster up whatever self respect you had lost and say to hell with him. 

Your fingers reached to clung to the collar of his shirt and you could practically felt his smile widen against your skin. He eventually released your jaw and your lips parted, the intimacy of his closeness melting your mind and blurring your senses. You swore this man was a drug. 

When he leaned back to look at you, the same sense of expectation lingered in his eyes. He knew that no matter how far he went, no matter what he did, he would have you wrapped around his finger. He had broken past the wall you’d forced up. He’d tricked you into trusting him, into needing him, into yearning for him. He had succeeded in his goal, having found a way to make you submit to him willingly. To make you say and do as he pleased. 

You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but the warmth of his palm sliding up and down your bare thigh, far softer than he’d ever handle the people who have died at his hand, and his piercing gaze awaiting your response as his forehead brushed against yours was enough for you to give in.

“I need you,” you sobbed out, pathetically. “I need you, Sukuna.”

He beamed. “There it is.”

His lips were on yours in seconds, molding passionately to meld into the shape of your mouth. He could feel a fresh set of salty tears slip down your face and he pushed in harder, grabbing the back of your head and gripping your hip securely. He tilted his head, plunging his tongue past your lips to entangle heatedly with yours. You tried to pull back to breathe, but he had none of it. 

He pressed you back into the side of the car, devouring your lips as if you were his last meal. You reached your arms up and around his neck, pulling him closer, sinking into the vibrance of his grip and his lips against yours. He groaned, yanking your thighs close and slipping a hand between them, large digits dancing over the warm plush of your inner thighs. You moaned softly, brows pinching together as sharp teeth sank down into your bottom lip.

You gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself from the dizziness he made you feel. He yanked away, ducking down to nip at your neck. “Mine,” he hissed, curving into your soft body, breathing raggedly. 

You nodded mindlessly, tilting your head back as Sukuna marked all over the expanse of your throat. His lips smoothed all over you, trailing down to your collarbone and over your breasts. His teeth were sharp, breath hot, lips wet and velvety despite his hardened exterior. 

He picked his head back up, kissing your chasing lips gently before pulling back, kiss-swollen lips cracking a smile. “I almost forgot,” he began. 

You looked at him in a daze, eyes hazy as he slipped your arms from around his neck. He carefully maneuvered you off of him and stood. You watched him blankly, disoriented and heated. You observed him grab the handle of the back seat to his car and yank it open, leaning over the seat to retrieve what you discovered to be a gun.

Suddenly, the haziness of the previous moment had faded, the weapon clutched within Sukuna’s hand breaking the glass cage that he had trapped you in. 

He loaded it, pushing the ammo into the slit  by the hilt of his palm with ease and pointing it upward. He turned over his shoulder to smirk down at you as you drew your knees into your chest, gradually registering what you were now involved in.

“Let me take care of this kid first, princess, and then you’re all mine.”

[jymwahuwu]

I feel like I have goldfish memory but good news, I remembered what scenario I was thinking about for once.

So what if reader was trapped in a samsara like the sabzeru festival (is that how you spell it?) But instead of a festival setting it's the day where she got kidnapped by our beloved general.

On this day she got kidnapped it was just supposed to be another ordinary day but then the kidnapping happens and the next morning she sees that's she's back at home and now throughout the day she's been trying to find different ways to prevent the event but always fail in the end.

The only twist here is that Jing Yuan starts to notice how we start to predict his moves and whatever he's going to do so he starts to catch onto what's happening and tries to stop us from going into another samsara but since we don't know that he knows about this time loop he just pulls a move that we weren't expecting and kidnaps us again.

Idk if you've done this but my ✨insomnia✨ ain't letting me sleep till I type this whole thing out 😭

🍰anon

I'm starting to worry about your sleep 🍰anon 😭🥺 You seem to be as sleep deprived as me.

And never thought time loops could be so interesting! This reminds me of a gaslighting post I read before where a girl broke up with her boyfriend and he kept manipulating her by pretending that they never broke up. But this is really a time loop >_<

-CW: yandere, kidnapping, non-con, breaking into your home

On the day of the kidnapping, the sky was overcast, and the continuous dark clouds organized and gathered, swallowing up the sun. Just an ordinary day, a rainy day. The lights of passing spacecraft and the crowds. You complete your daily activities as usual, such as working/resting/shopping/walking/dining. Opening the door, you took off your shoes and packed your rain gear in the hallway, not noticing anything unusual at home…and then…you fell into a coma.

When you wake up, you're in a luxurious room with a cute cartoon tape covering your mouth. You mumbled something incoherent, thrashing around in panic. The huge figure turned - who was that? Who is that? This stranger had long, layered white hair, broad shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be hidden under the armor and cloth. As soon as he saw you waking up, he immediately approached you and spoke softly. "Oh, you're awake. I've already taken a bath for you. Don't worry." The rain fell pattering outside the general's mansion.

What bath? What bath!? For you? Your eyes widened, tears of horror running down the tape. A flash of lightning flashed across your face quickly and then disappeared. Jing Yuan held your face and looked at it for a while before kissing the tape on your lips. "Sh- don't be afraid. I'll be good to you."

If you respond tactfully, there's a chance you won't get fucked immediately on the first day. After a good night's sleep, you find yourself back home, like you've never been kidnapped!! You thought you were having an immersive dream and didn't care, but you've been kidnapped again. What happened happened again.

Check the time on your phone:

[same date].

You have searched several times and calendars on the Internet, but all of them are stuck on that day and have not moved forward. Maybe this is an opportunity to change the kidnapping? You start searching and investigating who that person really is. Of course, Jing Yuan told you the name (lovers will know each other's names.) You found his introduction on the Space Online public think tank… Uh… Jing Yuan is one of Xianzhou's generals.

Xianzhou Alliance, isn’t that a well-known space civilization alliance? He kidnapped you…does anyone believe it?

Within the time loop of the same day, you tried more than ten ways and routes to avoid being kidnapped, including returning home at different times, sleeping at a friend's house, preparing weapons, taking friends home, renting a hotel room to rest, etc. . Without exception, all failed. He can always resolve and recognize your defenses and lead you away.

Jing Yuan actually knows this time loop and all the struggles and precautions you take. He can't help but see how far you can go, how smart you can be, but doesn't want you to actually escape his chessboard.

Until, after you were kidnapped again, you thought you would wake up and return home…but no. Moreover, Jing Yuan has found a way to end this day's time loop, preventing you from entering another loop. He has Xianzhou technology support after all. You look around the room - this is still the General's mansion.

Why?

Jing Yuan enjoys the fruits and sweetness of victory. Putting you at his mercy - stopping your resistance, his warm palm rubbed between your swollen thighs, spreading your buttocks. He holds you with your legs spread forward, holding you like you were a cute puppy, and penetrates you with his cock. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"The only timeline is that we fell in love."

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 6: I'd Live And Die For Moments That We Stole

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author's Note: so ttpd was released while writing this, and oh my god some of the songs on there work a little to well with either this fic or arthur morgan in general

also was not expecting so much attention from the ghoul fic and i will continue to write for him, i just still want to work on this too!

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay

Chapter List

Hans was home for three and a half weeks. 

Your days were either spent alone in your house, Hans shutting himself in his office, or out on the town, heading to dinners, plays, movies, and miscellaneous events that you hardly remembered. It was always a blur to you, anyway. 

You’d only caught glimpses of Arthur throughout the past weeks. He’d sometimes be roaming the streets of the cities you were in, keeping his distance, but you’d always feel his watchful eye on you. It made those days better, knowing that in a way he was by your side. 

If Hans noticed the extra eyes watching the two of you, more specifically you, he didn’t say anything. He still acted the same, attentive and loving husband in the public eye, cold and disdainful behind closed doors. It was exhausting, but you pushed through. 

The two of you had been at a party all night, your feet ached and the muscles of your face were strained from smiling so much. You had just walked into your house, around midnight, and you were exhausted. Hans had immediately retired upstairs, and you followed after him, getting ready for bed in your closet.

 You pulled off your dress, the fabric itchy and uncomfortable, and you had slipped into your nightgown. Slipping into bed beside Hans, you fell asleep rather quickly, and the night passed dreamlessly, much to your disappointment. 

You woke up alone, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary. What was out of the ordinary was that he didn't come down for breakfast, not responding when you called for him. When you knocked on his office door, there was no response. Confused, you peered outside, pleasantly shocked to find the carriage missing. He’d never just left like that; there was always some sort of heads up, and he always requested your company in bed.

You were nowhere near upset, though, and you gleefully cleaned up the kitchen. You spent the next few days in your garden, luckily not as wrecked as it was the first time, your planters holding up well. 

It was the third night when you heard a knock on your door, and you couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face as you bolted to the door. You didn’t have to look through the peephole to know who was there, and you opened the door quickly. 

There was Arthur Morgan on the other side of your door, hair longer than you remembered, but that same dazzling grin on his face. 

You stood there, not quite shocked, but your brain was still unsure of how to react. Your body knew, though, and you nearly tackled him to the ground with the force of your hug, arms wrapping around his neck. 

He wasn’t expecting your reaction, a startled whoa leaving him, but he immediately reciprocated the hug, like he needed this just as badly as you did. You sagged into his arms, a breath you’d been holding for the last three and a half weeks finally being released. Resting your head on his chest, that comforting smell of him made you smile. Oh, how you missed him. 

“I missed ya too, darlin’,” he chuckled, and you tilted your head back to look up at him. It was adorable, the way his ears turned red, flustered by your sheer adoration of him. 

You snuck a hand up into his hair, combing through the longer strands that stuck out from beneath his hat. He sighed under your touch, his eyes threatening to flutter close. “It’s so long now,” you muttered more to yourself, and you watched him raise a brow. 

“I just keep forgettin’ to cut it,” he admitted.

“I ain’t complainin’,'' you laughed. “It suits you.”

He just hummed noncommittally, and the two of you stood in silence, simply taking in the presence of the other. You saw the way his eyes flicked down to your lips and then back up. The motion was quick, like he was unsure if you’d want him to kiss you again, if you thought the last time had been a mistake. 

You didn’t give him a chance to get lost in his thoughts, standing up on your tiptoes to brush your lips against his. His beard was longer than last time, too. It was less of a stubble and more of a soft layer of hair, and it tickled less than last time. 

He smiled, barely able to contain his relief, and you felt him cup the side of your face, bringing your face back for a proper kiss. When his lips slotted against yours, you reconfirmed your belief from the first time; he truly did feel like home.

“I really did miss you,” you whispered out once the kiss broke. 

“I’m here now. Unfortunate for you,” he chuckled, and you slapped him lightly on the chest. 

“Hush, Arthur,” you admonished, shaking your head. “C’mon, let's get inside.”

It took a few moments for you two to release each other, and you took his hand once you stepped apart, leading him into the house. You didn’t even have to ask before he was taking off his boots, and you were dragging him upstairs. 

The implications of what you were doing were lost to you as you brought him upstairs, but you heard Arthur mutter your name, confused but not completely against the idea.

“For the life of me, I can’t get into his office,” you explained. “I ain’t got the skills you do.”

“And I do? Quite rude of you to assume.”

You scoffed, sparing him a disbelieving look. “Arthur, did you forget how we met?”

By this time you’d reached the top of the stairs, standing outside the locked office door. Excitement caused your heart to race, not ready for what you might possibly find in the office. Even though you were raised to not be a snoop, it was quite fun digging into peoples personal items, and it was especially fun when said personal items belong to your husband. 

“Fair enough,” Arthur conceded, and he pulled a few items out of his pocket, tools you assumed he was going to use to pick the lock. “This’ll just take a sec.”

Arthur got down on his knees in front of the door, and you watched as he fiddled with the tools, silently listening for something. You had no idea what he was doing, but it was quite fascinating to watch. Besides, you got to appreciate the way hands flexed and fingers moved as he worked the lock.

It was less than thirty seconds before he was standing up, a small yet proud smirk on his face. “It�� it’s that easy?”

Arthur laughed at that. “Nah, it was unlocked.”

“You’re fuckin’ kidding.” 

He stared at you blankly before laughing again. “You shoulda seen your face. Yes, I’m kiddin’.”

“Arthur Morgan!” That just made him laugh harder, and you cherished the sound, locking it away in your brain. You joined in, chucklining lightly. “You bastard,” you teased. 

“Sorry,” he replied, not sounding sorry at all “I had to. Forgive me.” 

You shook your head, leaning against the wall. “I don’t.”

“Then what do I gotta do to earn your forgiveness, darlin’?” He moved toward you, brushing his fingers over the apple of your cheek, tucking away hair that wasn’t there.

“I could think of a few ways,” you murmured, not so subtly looking at his plush lips. 

Grinning, he didn’t bother responding before kissing you, hat knocking into your head. “Am I forgiven now?”

You snuck in one last quick peck before responding. “I guess.”

“I’ll take that.”

He held your face for a few moments longer, eyes sparkling with adoration. His expression then sobered, and he shoved the tools back into his pocket, removing his hand and setting it on the doorknob. “You ready?”

You took his other hand, nodding, and he held the door open for you as you stepped into his office for the first time.

It was way messier than you expected. Stacks of books and piles of paper seemed to loom over you; one stray gust of air could topple it all down. There were high shelves lining one of the walls, filled floor to ceiling with different books, knicknacks, and various loose papers stuck between the books. A large oak desk stood in the middle, a large leather chair tucked in, equally as covered with papers, and various splotches of ink had long since dried into the wood.

There weren’t any windows, making the room stuffy, and you could feel the dust tickling your nose. You were left speechless, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with the amount of stuff in front of you. “How…” you managed to let out, and Arthur just shook his head. 

He made his way to the desk, your hands still intertwined, and he began to shuffle through the papers, spreading them around on the desk. His eyes danced around the papers, and he let out a sigh, nothing sticking out to him. You opened the drawers, only seeing junk and even more paper. 

You were about to shut the final one before a rectangular shape caught your eye. Pulling it out, you set it on the desk, the book automatically falling open. Leaning in to investigate further, you realized it was a ledger book of sorts, but everything was written in shorthand or codes, indecipherable to you. 

“The hell?” Arthur murmured, just as confused as you were. “This even English?”

“Maybe?” You flipped the pages, the words changing but still not understandable. “I mean, it’s obviously a ledger, but that’s all I can tell.”

When you flipped a few more pages the same thing happened, you sighed. “I thought it would’ve been that easy, just finding the ledger book and having everything you needed to know be right there.”

“It usually is. Criminals ain’t the smartest sometimes.” Arthur pulled out the chair and sat in it. You sat on the arm rest, leaning against Arthur a bit, your foot still holding most of your weight. “Let’s see here…”

Arthur looked through the papers on the desk again, and you were able to catch glimpses of what they were; they were a mix of receipts, letters, and various documentation. There were a few names, none of which you recognized, and you watched Arthur scribble them down into his notebook. 

“I think that should be good for now.”

You weren’t going to lie, you had spaced out a bit while scanning over the various documents, the writing quickly turning to a blur in your eyes. You jumped when Arthur stood, nearly causing you to topple over, but you felt him secure you with a hand on your waist. “Already?” You asked.

“I’ve got a few names’ I’ll see where they lead.” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t wanna spend too much time in here, anyway.” To prove his point, he led you out of the office, shutting the door behind you. 

“Then why’d you come over?”

“Ouch.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you chuckled.

“Will you ever believe that I come over just to see you?”

“Probably not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, and began to lead you back downstairs. “Where you takin’ me?” You asked, and he didn’t respond, getting his shoes on and leaving the house. “Arthur?”

“You’ll see,” was all he said, not letting go of your hand as you descended the stairs. 

“What’re we doin’?”

Arthur sighed. “Have you ever heard of a surprise?” 

The familiar form of Bear caught your eye, and you made a noise to get his attention. It worked, the horse flicking its head towards you, nickering excitedly as you and Arthur approached. 

“Hello, Bear!” You let go of Arthur’s hand, striding over to the horse happily. You missed how affectionately Arthur looked at you, a warm smile on his lips as he watched you. “How’s my favorite boy doin’?”

“That’s the second time I’ve been insulted by you today.”

You ran one of your hands on his snout, the other patting his neck. “Ignore him, Bear. He’s grumpy.” You rambled out praises to the horse, and his eyes visibly relaxed, practically pressing himself into your hands. “Such a good boy, Bear.”

You felt his lips on your neck first, the soft beard barely tickling your skin. His arms were next, wrapping over yours, keeping you pressed close to his chest. “What did I say ‘bout spoilin’ my horse, darlin’?” He rocked with you side to side, occasionally pressing his lips against your skin. 

“He deserves it,” you giggled. “He always brings you back to me.”

Arthur stilled. “I… I suppose you’re right.”

“I am right.” You broke the tension that threatened to form with a verbal jab, and Arthur chuckled. 

His arms released your body, but he kept his hands on you, trailing them over your arms, and then settling on your hips. “You ready?”

“Sure, but you-”

Arthur cut you off by grasping your waist, lifting you effortlessly and setting you on the back of Bear. A startled cry left your lips, and you glared at Arthur once he set you down. “A warning next time?” You tried to not seem as freaked out as you were, clutching at the saddle in front of you for some sense of stability. 

“I did,” he responded, chuckling when your glare returned. When he got into the saddle in front of you, you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, clinging on to him. “You good?” He asked, concern in his voice.

“I…” you felt ashamed to admit to him, “I ain’t been on a horse in… years. Not since I was a little kid.”

“Bear’s a good horse. He’s never bucked me off, if you’re afraid of that.”

You exhaled shakily, your head resting on his back. “Alright, just don’t expect me to let go.”

“I’ll never complain ‘bout your hands on me,” he almost proudly admitted, and in response you just tighten your grip. “Ready?” He asked again.

“Yes.” You didn’t bother asking what you were doing again, knowing you weren’t going to get an answer. 

Arthur kicked his heel lightly, giving Bear the go ahead to start moving. You refrained from gripping on to him tighter, not wanting to choke the poor man, and you watched the scenery begin to move past you. Arthur kept a slower pace, no doubt a pace he normally wouldn’t ride at, but his consideration towards you had you melting. 

Even though most of the wind was blocked by Arthur’s frame, you still felt it grace your skin, hair streaming behind you. It felt nice, not too chilly, and it helped you relax.

It took a few moments for you to lift your head from his back, your arms loosening, settling lightly on his waist. “Alright?” He asked, the wind not loud enough to overpower his voice yet. 

“I think so. Are… are you gonna tell me yet?”

“Do you trust me?” Interesting response, you thought. 

“Of course.”

“Then trust me when I say you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re no fun,” you teased, feeling comfortable enough to remove one of your hands from his waist, flicking the back of his hat.

Arthur grumbled something, but you could hear his smile. 

He rode on for a few minutes, and you took the time to just absorb the beautiful scenery around you. It was much more enjoyable to look at when you weren’t crammed into a stuffy carriage with a miserable man. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a large stag, hidden between the bushes. His head followed the both of you as you passed, but it quickly turned when a doe approached him from one of the bushes. You didn’t get to point them out to Arthur before they were scampering away, the stag following the doe into the thicket, the sound of branches snapping the only proof of their existence.  

You truly had no idea where Arthur was taking you, your attention focusing back on the road. He had returned to the main road, sure, but he wasn’t heading in the direction of any major towns. The thick woodland had turned sparse, making way for rolling hills of grass with the occasional flower, with flocks of animals out enjoying the incredible weather. 

As Arthur continued the slow pace, you began to feel antsy, and you were also feeling a bit brace. “You can go faster,” you leaned forward to tell him, and he looked over at you. 

“Yeah?”

When you made a comfiring noise, he grinned, looking positively excited. It made him look so young, so carefree, and you couldn’t help but grin in response. 

Securing your grip back around him, he urged Bear on more, who was more than happy to comply. A startled laugh left you as Bear went faster, your smile widening, wind whipping against your body. It was exhilarating, but you needed more. 

“Faster!” You had to start shouting a bit, the wind becoming more intense. 

Arthur shook his head, chuckling, and you watched him spur Bear on again. He broke into a gallop, the world around you becoming a blur. You don’t think you’ve ever moved this fast in your life, and it was incredible. Laughing joyfully, you felt Arthur do the same, leading Bear along the road with small pulls on the reigns.

You’re not sure how long you two tore through the countryside, but it felt like no time had passed before Arthur was bringing Bear to a trot. You were still laughing, brushing back your hair which you were sure was a complete mess, but you didn’t care.

Artur led you off the main road, leading you up a large yet gradual hill. The top was completely flat, with only a few dry bushes and patches of grass interrupting the stone. A few small rodents looked at you curiously, before retreating to their burrows. 

Dismounting, Arthur didn’t secure Bear to anything, but you knew that he trusted him to not run off. After swinging your leg over, Arthur helped you down, holding you even when your feet hit the ground. Something flashed over his face as he watched you catch your breath, the wide grin on your lips never ceasing. His thumb rubbed into your skin where he held you on your waist, which didn’t help to calm down your racing heart. 

“Good?” 

You nodded. “I’m wonderful. That was… that was incredible. You get to do that every day?” You asked, something similar to envy in your voice.

“If you ever want to take him out for a ride, just let me know. I think Bear’d love that.”

You glanced back at the horse, who was watching you expectantly. Laughing slightly, you left the comforting hold of Arthur, patting Bear's neck. Arthur moved beside you, grabbing something fabric looking from the saddlebags, as well as a bottle of what assumed to be liquor. He extended an arm for you, and you gladly took it, linking your arm with his. It was similar to the way Hans would have you on his arm, showing you off almost like an accessory. This felt different, though, like it always did with Arthur. 

You shook the thoughts of your husband out of your mind; right now was about you and Arthur. He led you to the edge of the hill, and you let out a gasp at the view. You were able to see what felt like the entirety of The Heartlands, rolling fields of grass as far as the eye could see. Mountains dotted the skyline, and you could see a few small towns littered about. Hoards of different animals grazed, from bison to deer to turkeys. 

So enthralled by the view in front of you, you hadn’t noticed Arthur laying out a blanket beside you, until he tugged lightly at your arm. He pulled you down to a seated position, sitting behind you so you could rest your back against him. His arms immediately wrapped around you when you did, pressing a kiss to your cheek before settling his head on your shoulder, watching the landscape with you.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, and you heard Arthur humm in agreement. “How’d you find this?”

“I was huntin’, and I was tracking somethin’ that led me up here. As soon as I saw it I knew I had to bring you here.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Arthur thought of you while he was out on his travels. “You think ‘bout me a lot, Arthur Morgan?” You teased, pushing away a feeling you were too scared to name still. 

“All the damn time,” he admitted, an airy laugh leaving him and tickling your ear. “You know that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I just like hearin’ you say it.”

Arthur didn’t respond, just holding you like you were a lifeline, and you found that you could spend the rest of your life wrapped up in his arms. Eventually, conversation started between the two of you, catching the other up on what had transpired over the last few weeks, the liquor bottle Arthur brough being uncorked and passed between the two of you. It was a decent tasting whiskey, but you only took a few sips, not wanting to have this moment be clouded over with fuzziness. 

His arms had stayed wrapped around you for most of the time, but over the past hour had slowly let up, choosing to run his fingers over your body instead. It started with small touches on your side, before trialing up and down your arms and legs, to up your shoulder, brushing against your neck. It was like he was trying to memorize your body simply with his touch.

Every time he brushed over a sensitive area of your body, you’d shiver, and he’d smile, changing the infliction of his voice if he was speaking. It was hard to stay focused, either on his words or your own story. 

This was the fifth time you’d trailed off while you were speaking, and you laughed, resting your head back. “You’re distractin’ me.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Never.”

Arthur chuckled, and you felt those calloused fingers brush over your arms again, moving down to your hands. “Can’t help myself. Beautiful woman in my arms, it’d be a crime not to touch her.”

You’re sure your cheeks were dangerously warm. “Well, she ain’t complainin’,” you breathed out, and you felt his hands rest on the back of your, fingers weaving into yours. 

“You ain’t wearin’ your ring.” He sounded like he was almost in disbelief. 

You glanced down at your left hand, his much larger once encapsulating it. You’d taken it off a day ago, setting it in your nightstand. You’re not quite sure why you did it, but it felt like fifty pounds had been lifted off you when you took it off. “No, I ain’t.”

His right hand grasped your chin, turning your face towards his, which continued to rest on your shoulder. Pure longing was written across his face, but his lips were possessive when they made contact with yours. The grasp shifted from your chin to the side of your face, fingers tracing patterns into your cheeks. It pulled you in closer to him, but you needed him closer. You needed to feel him. 

You shifted so that you were facing him, hands bracing on his chest. You felt him sigh when your hands traveled up, over his neck and tanging into his hair. His hat hit the ground behind him, and he pulled you into his lap, your lips never separating once. The new angle had you leaning above him slightly, your hands in his hair pulling his head back, but he didn’t mind. 

You had forgotten what it was like to be kissed with so much passion, so much energy, and you couldn’t help but admit to yourself what you’d been trying to bury for weeks: you were in love with him. 

It made you gasp, pulling away from the kiss and resting your head against his. It wasn’t that you were against the fact that you were in love with him. But you had no idea if he felt the same. You knew he cared about you, there was no denying that, but was he in love with you? Knowing what kind of life Arthur lived, you didn’t see him as the committal type, not wanting to be bound to a person or place. 

He took you pulling away as you needing a moment to breathe, smiling gently at you. A large hand cupped the side of your face, and you melted into his touch, like you could respond any other way.

You debated just confessing to him right there, but anxiety welded your mouth close. Instead, you opted to just kiss him again, quick but no less lovely.

Sitting back on his lap, the sun was beginning to disappear below the horizon, just behind Arthur. The lighting made him look ethereal, brown hair golden, and you’re sure you were staring at him like a lovestruck fool. “You’re so beautiful,” you sighed out, laughing a bit when he looked away embarrassed. 

“Shouldn’t I be sayin’ that to you?”

“You already have. It’s my turn.”

He chuckled, still not believing what you were saying, but he was humoring you. “Alright, darlin’, how much whiskey did you have?”

You were drunk on something much better than the whiskey, that’s for sure. “I mean it, Arthur. You’re gorgeous.”

It was clear that he still didn’t believe you, but he thanked you anyway, kissing you lightly again. Resting your head on his shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his broad body, holding him in a embrace. 

You sat in Arthur’s lap for a good while, simply holding each other, and you felt the occasion kiss on your head. The two of you didn’t feel the need to talk, and you got lost in the sound of Arthur’s breathing. 

The sun had set, and as it left so did its warmth, cool night air hitting your body. You shivered, Arthur’s body heat doing nothing to protect your back from the cold. “As lovely as this is, I’d hate for you to get sick,” you heard Arthur murmur, and you hated that he was right. You didn’t want to leave, but you knew you’d regret it if you didn’t. 

“Alright,” you huffed out, untangling yourself from him, which just made you more cold. Standing up, you grabbed his hat for him as he stood, and you placed it atop his head. He grinned up at you, grabbing the blanket and draping it over his arm, extending the other for you again. 

Just like he had led you up the hill, he led you down to where Bear was resting, his ears flicking happily when he saw the two of you approaching. You gave him a few pats before Arthur lifted you on to his rump, and even then you were sure to murmur to him. Arthur handed you the blanket, and you wrapped it around your shoulders, keeping it secure between your two bodies once he joined you on Bear. 

As he took off, one of his hands went back to rest on your thigh, like he was making sure that you were still with him. Like you’d want to be anywhere else. And if someone tried to take you away, then you’d fight like a cornered animal to get back. 

The ride back was different at night; scenery that was once peaceful and comforting now becoming foreign and terrifying. Arthur went quick, not as quickly as before, but fast enough that said terrifying scenery went by fast. 

The ride felt shorter than you wished, the familiar sight of your house causing you to sigh, holding on to Arthur a tad bit tighter than what was necessary. 

Pulling up to the porch, he dismounted quickly, helping you down again. You were sure to leave the blanket on Bear, giving him a goodnight pat before climbing the stairs, Arthur following behind. 

You lingered in the doorway after he held the door open for you, an invitation for him to come in on the tip of your tongue. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say them, not wanting to scare him away. So you just smiled at him, kissing him lightly on the cheek. 

“Wait,” you heard him say before you were about to wish him a good night, “I’ve got somethin’ for you.”

Curious, you cocked your head as he dug into his satchel,pulling out a torn out piece of paper. “Read it when you get inside,” he instructed as he handed it to you. 

“Should I be worried?” You joked.

“Nah,” he chuckled. “Just… you’ll see when you read it.”

Well, now you were excited. “Okay…” you laughed, before kissing him for the final time that night. “I had an amazin’ day today, so thank you. Sincerely.”

“Of course, darlin’. Have a good night.”

“‘Night, Arthur. Come back to me, okay?” 

He nodded, tilting his hat at you, stepping down the porch. In the back of your mind, you remembered the lessons you’d had in the backyard with Arthur, learning how to shoot and gun. You remembered that today you were supposed to learn how to reload it, but it had completely slipped from your mind until now. You let it pass again, though. There was always next time.

You stood in the doorway until Arthur was long gone, clutching the note to your chest. When you finally retreated inside, you sighed happily, still caught up in the trance that the night had been. 

Sitting on the couch, you looked over the small piece of paper, clearly torn from his journal. There was an address scrawled across the top in that familiar messy cursive, some place in the state of Ambarino. It didn’t make much sense to you, so you read the following note left by Arthur, which started with your name. 

It took a bit of asking around, but I was able to find the new address of the Van Buren estate. From what I can tell, they’re doing well. It wouldn’t be a bad time to reach out, if and only if you feel ready.

- A

There was something scribbled out before his name, like he was planning on writing sincerely or something like that, but he must’ve deemed it too formal for a note like this. 

You sat there, shocked, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at the note. Two years of no contact with your family was almost over. It was so close. 

Leaning back against the couch, you held the note back to your chest, thanking the heavens for Arthur. There was no denying it now; you were so in love with him.

[strawberrybyers]

hey guys i need all of us to be insane about electricity real quick

so the stranger things account put on their broadcast channel this video and said “some light reading going on this wednesday”. well i’ve decided to look up each of these books and they all have to do with electricity???? and we know stranger things has an obsession with electricity, so let’s talk about it.

the orange book in the video is “The Voltage Regulator Handbook”. in the introduction it says “Too often, a design finds itself stalled in the development of a power supply to complete the total system. This problem is being eased with the development of a new generation of monolithic integrated circuit regulators and discrete components…” this makes me think of how the upside down is stuck in time and how season 4 ended with the upside down forming into one with hawkins??

then i’m pretty sure the book next to it is “Solid State Lamp” ?? but i googled it and there’s such a thing as solid-state lighting, so the book would be about lights and how they work. that’s interesting to me as lights have been used as a way of communicating with the upside down. also, there’s something called “Solid State Chemistry” as well and that’s interesting because i feel like nancy’s chemistry cards are a clue as to what is going on. i wrote a post about that here

the other book featured in the image is “The Transistor Manual”. another interesting book about electricity, but it seems like it has more to do with telecommunications such as a radio?? the radio has played a significant role in stranger things in regards to music and communicating through a radio.

the blue book is the “Ampex AG-440 AG-445 Recorder and Reproducer Operation Maintenance Manual”. this one intrigued me specifically because of this page??

“CAUTION: DO NOT TOUCH HIM, OR YOU MAY SHARE HIS PREDICAMENT” BITCHHHH WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED???? also you have to keep him warm?? remember the whole “he likes it cold thing?” or the upside down/demogorgon is affected by heat?? my mind can’t help but think is something going to happen to will since he still has a connection with the mindflayer/upiside down/vecna and interacting with him could result in death or harm to oneself ?? LIKE IDK A DAMN THING ABOUT ELECTRICITY EXCEPT THAT THE LAB POSED AS A LIGHT AND ELECTRIC COMPANY, STEVE TALKS ABOUT HAVING ELECTRICITY WITH THE RIGHT PERSON, THE OFFICIAL PLAYLIST FOR MIKE HAS A SONG CALLED “ARE FRIENDS ELECTRIC?”, LIGHTS ARE USED TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE UPSIDE DOWN AND THESE BOOKS ARE CLUES AND SOMEHOW ALL OF THAT LEADS TO BYLER ENDGAME OK THANK YOU FOR BEING INSANE WITH ME ‼️

[theresattrpgforthat]

I found a goth speakeasy/coffee shop by my school that does a Thursday tabletop night where you can bring and run your own games and I was wondering if you had any recommendations for games you'd feel comfterble running with a table of strangers / mostly strangers? Thank you!!

THEME: Games to Run with Strangers.

Hello friend, fall comes upon us and I finally get around to answering your ask. Thank you so much for your patience! I’d definitely recommend bringing some safety tools to any of these games, since you’re playing them with strangers. That being said, I tried to pick games that were easy to pick up and quick to learn considering you’d probably want each session to be a standalone one.

I often run games with groups of people who don't know each-other beforehand, and I'd recommend allowing silliness to blossom when possible, even if you're running a spooky game. Let’s see what we can find!

Wizardry and Bureaucracy, by Oh Little Moth.

You are a member of the National Parks Service. You and your team would do just about anything to protect your national park. Also, you’re wizards. But all the magic in the world can’t save you from the slog of paperwork you have to endure as a civil servant. Your mission is to preserve your park and all creatures living in it, promote a love of nature and the environment, and also keep park visitors from seeing through the curtain separating the magical from the mundane.

Like most Lasers and Feelings games, this has quite a bit packed into one page. Easy character generation, a standard list of gear, an introduction where you collaboratively design your park, and the classic Lasers and Feelings mechanic that makes you automatically better at one thing and worse at another. The game is also set up to be raucously silly. This game includes the very good piece of GM advice that I adore for improv: ask questions and build on the answers. You don’t have to come up with the entire story yourself! Give your players the chance to tell you how exactly magic interacts with the local National Park.

The Children of Saturn, by Dan John Crowler.

The people of Petrikstein are tormented by a blood craving beast prowling the night. Players take the roles of parish appointed investigators on a mission to find and slay this alleged Vampyr, before it claims even more lives. Will they be able to find out the truth in web of lies, myths, and fear fueled superstitions? Play to find out!

The Children of Saturn is a neat little game that combines the Keys mechanic from John Harper’s Lady Blackbird with the graded 2d6 roll of Powered by the Apocalypse. You can accumulate dice to roll depending on whether the action in question is in line with your character, and failure increases the chances of success the next time you roll. The characters are pre-made to some extent, but the players will be able to make them unique through names, descriptions, and how they decide to role-play. This game also come with a small hex map for your characters to explore - and everything fits on one page! If you want something spooky and quick to prep, this is definitely worth checking out.

2400, by Jason Tocci.

2400 is lo-fi sci-fi. It’s centuries in the future, and it’s a decades-old modem that screams like a dying robot when it connects to the net. It’s a space ship with an FTL drive, artificial gravity, and a flickering display you gotta tap a few times to see the jump coordinates. It’s hacking something together with whatever cheap materials you have on hand, ignoring the rules until you need them, banging out something that might not sound finished, but definitely sounds fun.

The 2400 system is a stripped-down ruleset inspired by the OSR that has been used to create a number of hacks in different settings. Every time I’ve run a 24XX game, the session lasted about 2 hours, so it definitely has the ability to play quick. The original page for 2400 currently has over 20 different settings to choose from, so if one of them really hits off, you could come back with a different setting each week for your friends to play through!

The Great Soul Train Robbery, by Cloven Pine Games.

On the road to hell there was a railway line. An express train to the infernal city of Dis, crewed by furies and carrying treasure and souls to damnation. You’re going to rob it.

The Great Soul Train Robbery is a tabletop roleplaying game for 2–6 players and 1 gamemaster about Desperados robbing the train to Hell. Spin an allegorical Weird Western yarn as your sharpshooters, fiddlers, homesteader widows, and other Desperados attempt a Hellish train heist. Will you claim your prize from the train, or be overcome, damned, or broken by the heist?

This is probably the biggest Honey Heist - inspired game that I’ve seen to date. It’s a solid pitch, with very little background needed in order for your players to grasp what exactly it is they’re doing. If players aren’t sure what kind of character they want to make, all of the options have d6 roll tables to give your group a goal, your train some complications, and your character a name and a special item. There’s quite a few pages of GM advice in this, which is probably a big boon to anyone running the game, as it allows you to construct a more complex train than what you might have created out of the top of your head. I’d probably even just steal the train construction section to use for other similar games!

Hold Your Own, by Sharkbomb Studios.

It's a time and place, not unlike the one that you, the players, grew up in. A dark mirror of the decade of your youth.  You play as a group of friends at the cusp of adolescence and life is hard. You're unpopular and unwanted. All you've got is each other.

But it comes worse: A strange menace threatens to devour everyone you know. And nobody wants to believe you, not the teachers, not the parents. It looks like it's up to you to save your home.

Fans of It and Stranger Things will probably like this game. This game uses small dice pools and four basic stats. You’ll be facing off against an antagonist called the Menace, a threat that the rest of the community believes doesn’t exist. The Menace will always be strong enough to provide a challenge, and as you play, you’ll learn more and more about what it is exactly that you’re fighting against. This is a great game for fans of suspense, and it’s also small enough to learn it within the few hours that you’d have at a coffee shop.

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Something is Wrong with the Chickens, by Elliot Davis.

Koboldly Go, by CoffeeSnake Studios.

Faewater, by A Smouldering Lighthouse.

The Station, by pidj.

[causticflower]

A Ship Template!  

a shipping template (a fancy + a simplified/more readable version) that I made for fun

so here! have fun too :3

originally inspired by @awfulalignmentcharts and [their ship chart]; I borrowed the general layout and some of the wording, otherwise the graphics & rest of the words is me ^^

more + explanations down under vvv

> a general note: you can fill this thing out any way you want; you can write the answers, draw them, you also don't have to fill out everything, and you can even delete/replace stuff you don't like (it's not like I'd be able to stop you lol) ((also the title, you can edit the [--] or the whole thing too))

> you don't need to tag me or reblog the post if you fill it out

> if anyone wants a different combination of the graphical parts or different font or something else let me know, I'll see what I can do <3 

= Explanations =

(I explained everything just to be sure, feel free to skip parts)

Top part – Introductions:

the big squares → you can put their faces or profiles or whatever of theirs there

the small square (“describe their vibes”) → what their dynamic is like, what vibes do they give off when next to each other etc; for example, are they a cat-person & dog-person kind of duo, or it's a scary dog privilege kind of situation, or do they look like enemies, etc

ship name → their ship name, or their ship names if they have multiple

age+difference → what are their ages + how big their age gap is

height+difference → what are their heights + how much is one taller/shorter than the other 

fandom(s) -> what fandom are they from, or fandoms if it's a crossover ship

name → their name, full or nickname or other

gender → their gender

sexuality → their sexuality; you can specify if it's a romantic, sexual, both/neither type of attraction 

alignment (of your choice) → what the character’s alignment/personality is, up to you if you want to use the classic DnD alignment chart (good/neutral/evil x lawful/neutral/chaotic) or if you want to use whatever else (like add in bastard/fish/pirate etc)

Left Column (the many sliders): 

big spoon <--> little spoon = when sleeping or cuddling; who is the one hugging <--> the one being hugged

actually functions <--> messy mental wreck = how well they are doing mentally; are they mentally well adjusted/stable <--> are they a mess/have mental issues

ball of stress <--> YOLO = what their general attitude to life is; are they stressed/worried about things constantly <--> are they carefree/careless/going with the flow

hermit <--> social bee = how social they are; not social at all <--> very social

scaredy-cat <--> fears no god = are they afraid of everything <--> do they fear nothing

bleeding heart <--> then perish. = how sympathetic they are; almost too sympathetic <--> don't care at all

incompetently competent <--> competently incompetent = basically: their attitude x their actual skill (with the middle being “normal”); look clumsy/careless but are very competent <--> look competent/confident but are actually useless

the world is ending (I fell in love) <--> blushing giggling kicking feet = what their reaction is when they realize they have a crush/fell in love; is very upset/miserable about it/hates it <--> very happy/giddy about it

allergic to PDA <--> sickeningly affectionate = how they act in general situations/around others; acting like they're strangers <--> constantly holding hands/kissing/complimenting each other

wants to get matching things <--> would rather die than change their style = they want to get something (very visible) to signify they are a couple <--> they like their style and won't change it no matter what

cuddles<3 <--> the table is broken again = the horniness meter; they have little to no sex (or it’s an ace/qpr ship) <--> they have sex as often as physically possible

has zero game <--> has insane game = how attractive they are to other people; cannot get a date no matter what <--> everyone wants to date them no matter what they do

crime doer <--> crime stopper = how likely they are to engage in 'bad' activities (either actual crime or just being a nuisance/prankster to their friends); constantly doing something nefarious <--> is actually more likely to stop crime/pranks from happening

watcher <--> meddler = are they more passive in conversations/situations <--> do they have to take part in everything

doomed by the narrative <--> blessed by the narrative = how much has the universe fucked them over (in canon or fanon); their life is/was pretty miserable <--> they are/were doing very well

Questions pt.1 

what brings them together? → what do they have in common / what might have brought (and kept) them together in the first place

what keeps/kept them apart? → what is/was preventing them from getting together (themselves, outside forces, etc)

Right Column:

Questions pt.2 

(badly) describe their meetcute → describe how they met, you can make it funny if you want

what are their fandom tropes/their ship appeal → what are their most common fan depictions (whether they are canon or not), or what about their ship dynamic is appealing to you/everyone

Questions pt.3

who fell first? → which one of them was the first to fall in love with the other

who first Realized (they're in love)? → which one of them had The Realization happen first, when they actually realized they are in love with the other person (basically the Oh. Oh. moment)

who confessed first? → who was the first to confess their love

who cleans up more messes? → who takes care of the mess they make/the trouble they get into more often

who is the first to apologize (after a fight)? → who apologizes first if they had a fight (where both of them might’ve been at fault)

who steals the bed covers? → who ((un)consciously) takes all the pillows/blankets/etc during the night/when they're sleeping together

who's the headrest? → example: A likes to rest their head/chin on B's head/shoulders/chest/etc, so B’s the headrest

who's the chef? (what they cooking?) → which one of them makes their food (and what the food is)

who takes charge of home decor? → which one of them is more likely to set up/design their home (pick the house, furniture, decor, etc)

who's the 3AM texter? → who's more likely to text the other in the middle of the night (for whatever reason)

who randomly brings home a new pet? → who's more likely to adopt random animals as pets / bring animals home to help them / etc

who's more likely to just straight up trip and die? → who is more clumsy/accident prone

“The Touchzone”

no touch <--> yes touch = in general circumstances, how do they feel about others touching them

the figures → you can draw on them or replace them with the characters, then you can color/otherwise indicate where and how they feel about touch on their body (either from their partner or in general, up to you)

you're dead → “I despise this”

do not → “I don't like this / I hate this”

not really → “I'd prefer no touch but it’s tolerable”

…eh… → “I have no strong feelings about this”

mayhaps → “I don't mind this, actually maybe even like it”

yes please → “I like this a lot”

YESss moreE → “I love/adore this”

note for the uncolored version of this: you can put your own colors/symbols/etc in the -[   ]- square next to the words

…and that's it, let me know if you have any more questions <3

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Introduction Post (Updated 5/26/2024)

Hello strangers and acquaintances, friends and enemies, welcome to the blog! I'm HotCheetoHatred (or just Cheeto, if you prefer) she/her, fanfic writer, broke college student, and mayonnaise hater! I mainly engage with Linked Universe, but I may occasionally reblog other things. My ask box is open!

For more information, including common tags and a planned chapter list for my fic Blood Drops on Roses, and links (heh) to some of my other works, see below the cut.

Common Tags:

My general tags:

#cheetoasks #cheetotalks #cheetoanswers

Tags for my writing:

#bdor #blooddropsonroses #cheetowrites #wild's wolf #lu lc au #linked universe lethal company au

Other common tags:

#not mine #cheetoficrec #pretty art #miracle whip propaganda #cursed consumables with cheeto #blessed consumables with cheeto

Chapter Lists (Subject to Change):

Blood Drops on Roses (Arc 1):

The Beginning 

A Quiet Morning 

Chasing Cuccos 

An Oddity 

Negotiations Pt 1 

Negotiations Pt 2 

Broken Pt 1 

Broken Pt 2

Little White Lies

Reunion

The Matriarch

Doubts Pt 1 

Doubts Pt 2 

Failure

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 1

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 2

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 3 

A Trail of Blood and Shadows Pt 4

Settling In

Bargaining: The Third Stage of Grief

A Stressful Night (D:<)

Noble's Warning

The Wolf

Differences

A Friendly Spar

Rito

A Monster Fight (D:<)

Stitches

Guardians

Hateno Fort (D:<)

An Unfriendly Spar

A Covert Meeting (D:<)

Bows and Beetles; Stars

Too Quiet

A Frantic Search

A Call for Help

Heal

[Redacted]

Blood Drops on Roses (Arc 2):

A Midnight Snack

Little Talks Pt 1

Little Talks Pt 2

A Conspiracy

Rusting on the Forest Floor

Omissions

Sink or Swim

[Redacted]

Cooking Pt 1

Cooking Pt 2

Lunch and Dinner

The Heavy Mantle of a Hero

Ruse

Ancestry

Onto the Next Adventure

Centenarians

A Question of History

A Golden Rupee

Home

An Esteemed Guest Pt 1

An Esteemed Guest Pt 2

An Alley Fight

Fireworks Pt 1

Fireworks Pt 2

A Soft Night

Trust

Resolutions (D:<)

[Redacted] (D:<)

An Interesting Request

Returning

Scolding Pt 1

Scolding Pt 2

Interrogation

Lies

The Last Straw

[Redacted]

Storm

A Last Stand

Settling In

Warnings

A Sweet Memory

The Haircut (?)

Exchange

Blood Drops on Roses (Arc 3): Coming Soon!

:D

Prologue (Really Subject to Change):

The Yiga and The Sheikah (7/7)

A Haircut (5/5)

Ballrooms and Buffoonery (1/1)

The Sword that Learned to Speak (3/?)

The Wolf that Learned to Sign

The Trap (1/3)

The "Prank"

Shadows (2/2)

Memories

Horseshoes and Storm-y Tempers

Runaway

The Wolf in the City

ABC's and Black Eyes

Alla'yall'd've

Revali's Gale

Daruk's Protection

Urbosa's Fury

Mipha's Grace

After the Calamity

No Air to Breathe

FebuWhump 2024 (Unfinished):

Day 1 — Helplessness (Time POV & Legend)

Day 9 — Bees (Wild POV & Wind)

Day 10 — Killing In Self Defense (Sky POV & Warrior)

Day 12 — Semiconscious (Four POV)

Who Heals the Healer? (3/3)

The Captain’s Sacrifice (4/4)

Cracks In the Ice (2/2)

The Yiga (1/3)

The Dangers of Dungeon Diving (1/2)

Ongoing AU's:

Wild’s Wolf (4/20?) (Started as part of Febuwhump)

Linked Universe AU: Lethal Company (2/18)

Congrats on making it this far, go drink some water. The list above will update alongside new releases.

[besthimbomachine]

my love when it counted. 01

summary: When Kenny’s ex girlfriend is hired to work at AEW he is forced to face his mistakes, his feelings, and the mess he’d made of something he once treasured. Not an easy thing, but pretending each other don't exist in some backstage cold war really wasn't going to help. (there was no abuse, violence, or cheating in their previous relationship) pairing: kenny omega x reader word count: 3337 warning: none, a little angst if you squint starting off easy in this chapter, this is more of an introduction, we pick up the pace (and the drama) way more in the next one, and you can expect smut later on in this too. Meanwhile, I'm also gonna be working on that smut yall voted for, so keep a watch to see when that comes out! Anyways, here is something that's NOT smut for you to read on this Holy Friday!!

01.

“Shit.”

Kenny’s hushed voice broke through the noise in the food court, his broken half whisper reaching Matt across the table. Looking up, he caught Kenny’s eyes widening in shock, like a deer in headlights. He watched as his friend went from shock to tension in a moment before he sent his gaze scattering down. Shit, and here he thought he’d be able to have a calm, peaceful meal. Just his luck.

By this point, Matt didn’t even need to look back to know the footsteps behind him were yours. Kenny’s reaction was confirmation enough. Just as the man looked down, you passed by Matt on your way, almost as if on cue. You walked in silence, but the sound of your boots cut through the background noise like a dagger. 

Matt knew you were pretending you didn’t see them. Well, pretending you didn't see Kenny. Whenever you saw Matt by himself you were always friendly. On his side, Kenny was - badly - pretending he didn’t see you. That was the unspoken agreement between you two. A cold war that felt terrifying from the outside, but that Matt only saw as sad. He could still remember the days when Kenny and you almost spoke in your own little language. Now he had to watch the two of you act like strangers and just come off being passive aggressive.

Looking up, Matt caught sight of an almost skittish Kenny finishing off his burger in a hurry. There was something unspeakbly weird about watching Kenny fucking Omega looking like some sort of stressed out prey animal. It could be even funny, had he not known that Kenny was more haunted by his own emotions than by you yourself. This was just depressing, tiring, and something Matt had told the man to solve even before his return to the ring. Looking around, he could already see a couple of people looking in his general direction, a sight escaping his lips as he looked back up again.

Kenny turned back to his friend just in time to catch a disapproving expression that he knew all too well by now. Honestly, he wasn’t doing this on purpose. It was just his reaction whenever you entered the room. Just as much as he was sure you weren’t doing the death glare on purpose, you just got on the defensive whenever your eyes crossed. The problem is, it wasn't easy avoiding each other. This situation was an every other show type of thing since Kenny returned to the ring. You’d cross each other for a few seconds and the air would already be tense. 

Shit, sometimes he wondered how he convinced Tony he’d be fine working with his ex.

But there wasn’t much else he could say about it. Kenny genuinely thought he could handle it, but he severely miscalculated your piercing gaze. Besides it’s not like he had anything he could do when Tony personally brought your name up. What would he say? ‘Yeah, no, don’t hire that amazing wrestler at the height of her career because I botched our relationship years and years ago’? Not the most valid of arguments. So, he sucked it up.

Or he tried, at least. God only knew he was trying. When Tony decided he’d hire you, Kenny had still been in recovery. Your name hit him like something out of this world. He felt like the air was infused with your perfume but turned ice cold, freezing his lungs as he tried to draw breath. Like flowers in a graveyard, the bitter sweet beauty of something long gone.

You were good - great actually. So it only made sense. The best business decision. He’d have made the same call in Tony’s place. Besides, far be it from him to stand in the way of your career. So, when the topic of conversation came to that and Tony finally asked if Kenny would be ok with it, he easily agreed. Nodding his head and smiling, assuring himself that it would work. It would have to.

But back then he was still in recovery, stuck at home. This problem would be for another day. But the day always comes. His first two weeks back he hadn’t seen you. No show he was at, you were at. It was a blessing and a curse, living on the edge of a precipice, waiting for the moment he would fall. So, as he waited, he tried to mentally prepare for the inevitable day your paths would cross.

It didn’t work. 

Of course it wouldn’t. How does he even prepare for something like this? You were like a force of nature - at least for him - wrecking his emotions like a fucking tornado. You had that effect on him. The love, the pain, the guilt - just the sight of your eyes stirred them all up in him. Like a storm contained within your gaze.

At first he tried being civil around you, it had been over five years, he was sure you could do it. And you could, playing civility like a good adult, a bit too well even. But the cold politeness of your voice froze his lips and dried his throat. He could feel the burn in his skin, like being dropped in an icy lake. Any deviation from that tone was always aggressive, and Kenny knew your anger was justified, he couldn't really blame you.

It didn’t take him long to decide that speaking was way worse than not speaking. The new plan was to keep his head low and dodge confrontation. He’d avoid pissing you off and maybe, if you were both polite about the whole thing, you’d seem like just strangers. Just leave you to your business and hope you wouldn’t see each other quite so often. Too bad for him, there is only so much space backstage.

“Come on,” Matt’s voice broke Kenny from his thoughts. 

When he looked up again he saw Matt getting up, holding the last of his fries as he signaled for them to go. Kenny could see the same disapproving look still burning in his friend's eyes. Getting up, he followed Matt, though, as he got back to the hallway, he stole another glance before turning around. 

Kenny’s gaze caught yours, just as you were turning back, coffee in hand. The sight was almost nostalgic, like he’d been sent straight back to the past. You had a match in thirty minutes and Kenny remembered this habit of yours pretty well. You’d always get coffee before a match, almost your own good luck charm. For a moment it was like time just hadn’t passed. But the moment soon was gone as he followed Matt into the hallway.

You watched as Matt and Kenny turned a corner, Kenny’s eyes catching yours for a second before they were both gone. There was tension in your muscles and bones as you started making your way to your locker room. You’d been trying to avoid Kenny as much as possible, avoid his gaze like it was the devil. Though, every now and again you’d turn around and find him staring at you. Find his eyes on yours only if just for a moment. And every time you met those baby blues you could feel all the pain you’d pushed down bubbling up to the surface.

Sometimes you wondered if accepting this job had been the right thing to do. Maybe you should have passed it down, thanked Tony for his offer and sent him on his way. Not that you had much of an option though, your time at WWE had finally started wearing you out. The lack of creative freedom making everything  a constant struggle. You almost lost your love for this job all together. 

So, when Tony Khan came forward with an invitation, you had no choice but to accept. What else would you do? Leave wrestling at this point? Not an option. Returning to New Japan was on the table, but you knew that whole place would scream Kenny. You wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without remembering that man. In the end, AEW was the best option. And they offered more money than New Japan, it was easy math.

The only problem was being around the man himself. But you knew that as long as you didn’t have to spend too much time together, you could do it. Be civil, be polite, be professional. You tried that, until he decided to just start pretending you weren’t there all together. And if that was the way he wanted things to be, so be it. Enough of civil and polite, you’d be silent, be curt, be distant. And try not to get caught watching one of Kenny’s matches from one of the backstage monitors. Again.

You couldn’t be sure if Matt knew that you knew, but from the corner of your eye you’d seen him watching you before you moved away. He was courteous enough to not mention anything when he came up to talk to you, and for that you were more than thankful. That was early into Kenny’s return, early into you both seeing each other again. Matt - and Nick - had kept that respectful politeness, never bringing your previous relationship up. You were friendly with the brothers and they were friendly with you. But you could feel in Matt’s eyes that hidden look of sorrow reserved for when you can’t really say what you are thinking.

In all honesty, you were just thankful you weren’t getting this look from anybody else. If Nick had the same feelings he did a better job at hiding them. You weren’t close with Adam Cole so you couldn’t know what he thought, but you didn’t really think he cared this deeply. And Hangman, despite being very friendly and warm since your arrival, never really tried bringing up the topic. Anybody else who’d know the story were also smart enough to keep to themselves. It was better that way. You figured that since Matt was closest to Kenny, he’d be the one most involved in this whole ordeal anyways.

As you arrived at the locker room you convinced yourself that it didn’t matter now. It was all in the past. Kenny, his selfish behavior and any feelings you had for him were now relics that you promised to leave behind when you took that plane in Japan. You were a different person from all those years ago and Kenny could hold you down no longer. And if Matt had anything to say he could speak up or leave it. But now, neither of them mattered, you had a match to fight. A match to win. And win you would.

From his spot backstage Kenny could hear clearly the moment your entrance music started playing. The crescendo of the beat over the booming crowd filling his ears as he made his way around the place. The song now was nothing like the one he had gotten used to associating you with. It was more aggressive and intense than your old New Japan song. It was a good song, great even. But it made his heart heavy with the realization of how much time had passed, and how time can change people.

Before the bell could ring he spotted one of the monitors backstage, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw you on the screen. He’d gotten into this bad habit since he returned, whenever you had a match he’d find the most isolated TV backstage and watch it from there. The first time he did it he said it would be only once, to fill his curiosity, he wouldn’t keep on doing this. Clearly, that didn’t work out.

Truth is, he didn’t watch your fights before you came to AEW. Well, mostly. In the beginning he refused to watch your matches out of pride. But when your absence started gripping at his heart he finally caved. Kenny missed you with him but he missed seeing you in the ring too, New Japan felt emptier without you. So one day he gave in and watched one of your fights.

He tuned in just as you were making your way to the ring, sporting new gear with a bold new song to go with it. The match started and you were beautiful, magnificent even. An exuberant exhibition of power and athleticism, of speed and resilience. You were better than before, stronger, more daring. An unleashed storm that had stayed far too long contained. It had been a few months since you left and you were doing well. You seemed to even be doing better. 

Kenny could feel jealousy and envy gripping at him, tasting like acid in his mouth. He wanted to hate the way you looked in the new gear but he couldn’t deny how it flattered your body in the best ways. When the match ended and your song played he could feel the music sticking in his throat and choking his breath. But the worst part was the voice in the back of his mind whispering a question: had he been holding you back all this time? When he turned off the TV his throat felt sore and his body tense, trying hard to push these thoughts to the back of his mind. 

That cycle would repeat a couple more times. He’d miss you more and want to know about your life and thus, he’d go looking for your matches - you’d blocked him on social media so that's as good as he got. Though, every time he’d feel bad, at first it was jealousy, but soon it morphed into something heavier, duller, and far more contemplative. After watching a couple of your matches, and feeling pain creep into his mind every single time, he just decided to let it go. Let you live your life without him knowing any of it.

And that was how he lived for years, only occasionally hearing any news about you. That is, until the news was that you were joining AEW. Now he sat in an empty corner backstage, watching your fight from a monitor in the wall. Like an addict, he kept coming back, watching every match with glued eyes. It still brought a tinge of pain from the corners of his mind but he just couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t bear being in the same arena as you and not watching you fight. It just felt wrong.

Time had been kind with Kenny though, mellowing his conflicting thoughts and brash nature until he could finally enjoy the show. He watched as you stood on the ropes, facing the crowd in pride as your song died down. The leather in your gear shining under the spotlights, shaping your body as your exposed skin glowed under the bright colors. It was a sight to behold, you were just as beautiful as the day you left New Japan. Maybe even more. 

The bell rang and the match started and Kenny was already leaning forward, wide blue eyes fixed on your image on the screen. You moved with purpose and ferocity, an electric storm taken human form, just as dangerous and grand. Watching you like this was almost like going back to the old days. Like you’d meet after the match and he’d drag you into some dark broom closet to sate the desire you caused on him. Not like he didn’t want that right now. You still had that same effect on him, the sight of your disheveled hair and the way you looked in your gear having his blood rushing down in record time.

But he knew that was then and this was now. He couldn’t keep on feeding a longing that would lead nowhere. Over the time he’d been watching your matches, Kenny couldn’t help but notice the changes. There was more certainty to your step now, doubt like a non existent thought to you. There was more of an edge too, the hunger and fearlessness of an apex predator. 

It was clear you’d gained experience and wisdom but it still was like time hadn’t passed, at least not for you. You kept the same energy and agility from before, maybe even more. Still fast to get back on your feet, and even faster to regain the upper hand. An athlete in peak form. It made Kenny even more conscious of how he’d started feeling time and his injuries weighing down on his bones. Like he’d aged twenty years while you only aged five.

Shaking his head he tried to ignore those thoughts. Focus on the match, on the way your body moved and the magnetism it held over him, like the ocean to the moon. Kenny watched you with bated breath, shaking in his seat whenever a hit landed, tensing whenever you went down. It was like the backstage got warmer as he could feel the sweat gathering on his hands, lip caught between his teeth as he watched you make the crawl to the ropes.

Kenny hated this part, of course he knew you weren’t made of glass - you’d told him that a million times - but he still did. He was fidgeting in place as he watched your hand reach its target, digging his nails into the box under him. You struggled back to your feet and Kenny’s eyes widened with every shot you took, a smile breaking through his grin when you finally landed a hit again. 

Regaining your footing, you made a run for the corner and Kenny felt his chest tighten. Your love of the top rope always had him tense as he watched you climb up with ease and prepare for a jump. He watched with held breath as you wound up before taking flight, body twisting in the air. With a sigh he released the breath from his lungs as you landed a perfect corkscrew moonsault, the crowd outside cheering alongside him. That sealed the fight as you pinned your opponent and soon the three count was done, bell ringing outside as your song started playing.

Kenny sighed in relief, watching as you raised your fists in victory. You’d won, no ugly hits, no bad falls, a beautiful match, perfectly done. He felt lighter knowing his worries had been for nothing, as he always did at the end of your matches - although, in the back of his mind he always knew, all it took was one unlucky moment. Your song started dying down once more as you made your way back, Kenny getting up and stretching to release the stress in his body. When he turned around, he saw Matt in the hallway.

“She is still quite something, isn’t she?” Matt’s voice was soft, a mix of awe and sorrow seeping through his low tone. Kenny couldn’t tell if that was nostalgia or something worse all together.

“Damn,” Kenny paused, hand sliding down his hair as words failed him for a second, “she’s something else already. A whole other beast,” he paused again, hoping his voice didn’t betray the tightness in his throat. “Makes New Japan seem even longer back,” with effort, Kenny looked back at Matt, being met with his friend’s piercing gaze and hoping his eyes didn’t reveal the deep crack in his heart or how heavy it weighed on him.

“Yeah,” Matt smiled, white teeth showing but the expression still not fully reaching his eyes, “come on man, show is gonna end soon, we gotta get ready.”

Walking up to Kenny, he threw his arms over his friend’s shoulder, holding tight as he guided them into the hallway. They both knew what Matt really wanted to say - yet again. Though this time Kenny needed to hear this, he needed to talk about it, for everyone's sake. But this was a conversation to be had in private, alway from the praying eyes backstage. So Matt would save it for when the night was over, and hope this time they could make that leap.

[starberry-cupcake]

I have talked before about getting rude comments on my trek posts and I don't respond to them, but this time I am sharing one of them. I got this in the post I made after watching 'the ultimate computer'

It isn't that I "don't give a shit about the lore of a franchise if it doesn't serve my stupid reactionary narrative".

I just have never watched The Next Generation in full.

I'm currently watching TOS for the first time. These are my reaction posts to the episodes as I watch them.

My parents are lifelong Trek fans, they've watched all classic seasons several times over and, with them, I've seen bits and pieces of Next Gen and Voyager as a child, probably without a decent order because they were on tv and dubbed. I've seen current seasons with them, once streaming sites started coming up with them (Discovery and a couple seasons of Picard, as well as went with them to the cinema to watch the new movies). I'm hoping that this family watch/rewatch we're doing will lead us to Next Gen after a few other stops so I can finally experience it as I should have, but we haven't gotten there yet. It's a nice family experience, my sister and I get to see my parents geek out, my dad wear his Enterprise or science officer shirt while we watch it and my mom re-live her Bones fangirl childhood, and I'm enjoying it too much to rush it in the name of Having Online Opinions.

And I think that, even if the show isn't new, I'm allowed to watch a thing for the first time and express my feelings about it. It's fun. It's nice. It's good to discover and learn about things.

Gatekeeping won't stop me from experiencing this show for the first time but it might ruin it for someone else who does care about what a stranger online with an uncalled for response has to say about them as a person (because calling me or my reaction to the episode "stupid" was certainly a Choice).

People in the replies and reblogs of this post have been talking about Data. Every once in a while I see a comment on Data somewhere. There are very interesting back-and-forths about it, and that's where the difference between generative ai and true ai comes from, not something I said but something someone replied on this post, which means this person has seen them. In my opinion, it's all very interesting and I'm reading the discussions, trying not to get spoiled too much, but I'm not getting into those discussions because all I know about Data comes from bits and pieces of childhood memories of Next Gen and two seasons of Picard and I don't think I have the necessary information to have an opinion that merits me getting involved.

Star Trek is a franchise that has become everpresent because it has shaped fandom as we know it and the genre as we know it. That doesn't mean we've all seen it and it certainly doesn't mean people get to insult my intelligence by shaming me for not having seen a season of a show in full yet.

I'm sure that, when my family and I get to Next Gen, I'll get to know more about Data and how that compares to this discussion and to today's landscape. In time.

And, if the problem is with my perception of generative ai and its current introduction in all forms of social, educational and economic situations, that's a different discussion to be had, but gatekeeping me from Star Trek doesn't immediately invalidate my opinion on some other subject matter.

I'm going to keep posting my stupid reaction posts and be roasted for them anyway, because I'm really enjoying this show and watching it with my family. It's a life-long thing I've put off because it took a while to get a streaming service here that hosted all of them with subtitles for my parents and, even if I get these replies, I still enjoy watching it and I know it will forever be a beautiful family memory, despite the internet's reaction to it.

[magnusarchivesrelisten]

MAG 010

oh boy, it's time to talk about Trevor. I don't like Trevor. I don't know if we're supposed to, he is a bad guy later after all (with Julia from last episode as his accomplice, nice touch putting their introductions right next to each other), but I feel like I like him less than I'm supposed to. Like I think he's supposed to be a little endearing but I feel like would call me slurs and I don't like him.

Honestly I'm not the biggest fan of the vampires either. Not to the same degree as Trevor, I think they're fine monsters, but I think they're just a little generic if that makes sense. I do appreciate the approach of having them be more animalistic (kind of like Nope's approach to aliens), and I think that's fun, but idk. They just don't click for me and i really don't know why?? They really should, they do that thing I was talking about in MAG 005 where they don't really fit a specific entity. Are they The Stranger? Maybe, they're not humans so no one really knows them. Are they The Web? They seem to have at least a little bit of mind control. They might have a little bit of Slaughter in them, since their victims would see it as a random act of violence. I love when statements don't fit the entities to this degree, so i really should like the vampires. Idk, maybe I associate them with Trevor too much.

So yeah, this one's kind of a miss for me. Definitely my least favorite episode so far, but I wouldn't say I hate it. It's a fine little horror story, it just doesn't really work for me.

Thanks for reading, maybe the next post will take less than a month to come out (no promises though)

Have a wonderful day everyone!

[chcrryade]

CHERRYADE: TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE? It all sounds a little too perfect. Or maybe that’s just me. Song Kyumin. Jul 1, 2021.

JAGUAR have emerged from their year-and-two-months period of almost complete radio silence with news that has shocked many—or perhaps a little less than many, because you can’t really expect to rise from the dead and still have millions of fans at your beck and call, ready to lap up any scraps you throw them. A new boy group is on the way, and their name is CHERRYADE. Something too sweet to drink all in one go, but too carbonated to sit on the tongue comfortably after just one sip. It seems rather on-brand for a company that has so far fed us one group that hated their failed-actor-turned-idol newbie’s guts, one soloist who kicked the chair after one (1) album that tanked, and a duo who I’m still not sure were hate-fucking or making attempts on the other’s life every time the camera turned.

This time, though, they’re not unveiling their (sure-to-be devastatingly attractive) members one-by-one from wherever they’ve been hiding them, as per the last three attempts. Neither are they shoving their not-yet-debuted faces in our faces with too many social media accounts or mind-numbingly boring introduction videos. Instead, JAGUAR have made the decision to protect the idol-environment and reuse our past favourites, taking them from one unknown group to another. Aren’t we lucky.

This isn’t a new (or even particularly exciting) concept. You may recognise the formula from STRMRUNNER Media, who chose trainees from only the top companies to shove together in a now-superstar group named SO(U)L. JAGUAR CEO Ae Seungdae must have witnessed the success the seven have seen and decided he wanted a piece of the pie. They even share the same amount of members. But I doubt they’ll be greeting each other at any music shows or posting cutesy selcas on Twitter, because some of the boys selected for this ‘supergroup’ of sorts aren’t known to be the nicest.

First, JAGUAR reached out to FNC and asked if they would miss SLOW MOTION’s once-leader Kil Doyeon terribly. The answer must’ve been no, as he’s rumoured to be the appointed leader of CHERRYADE also. Next on the list was METRONOME Media’s Duan Jieyang (who was more commonly known as DJ, although it’s been said he’s long abandoned that alias) and Jeon Haeil from their group ALGORHYTHM, disbanded in 2019, who had been in hot water previously for alleged fights breaking out between leader Daehoon and youngest Levi—who, funnily enough, left the group and ended up in SLOW MOTION not long after.

The higher-ups didn’t have to look too hard for the next couple of members, as they were right there in their pockets anyway. Qiao Yijun and Ahn Jaehee (our aforementioned failed actor) from BONSOIR were next on the roster, and the general consensus on that was that it was certainly an.. interesting choice to make. They were the two that seemed to despise each other the most, after all. 

Next is one that may surprise some. Hwan Minhui (or GOGO, as many know and love him as) was recruited from SM’s much adored sub-unit NCT DREAM. Reactions were mixed, but the largest question of all was why. Alas, it doesn’t seem like JAGUAR is going to be holding a press conference anytime soon to answer that burning inquiry. Or releasing any sort of statement, either. There’s far too much on their plates for that—what with trying to get all these complete strangers to act civil with each other, and all.

The last member of CHERRYADE is the only new face that we’re receiving. Not much is known about him except his name, Lee Hasun, and that he’s the youngest of the lot. Let’s hope he doesn’t receive the same treatment as Jaehee did, because otherwise this ‘supergroup’ might last even less time than all of JAGUAR’s other ventures combined. And we wouldn’t want that, of course. Or would we? (Don’t answer that).

Whatever the public may think of them, the one thing that is certain is that JAGUAR won’t care. Their age old motto of ‘any press is good press’ has lasted them too long for them to be doing anything like reassessing their values or realigning their morals. Hell, some have even been saying that accused (or rather, known—it’s something of an open secret at this point) nepo baby BONSOIR manager Hong Jaeyoung has found his new place as CHERRYADE’s handler, so from that alone it doesn’t sound like they’re going to be off to a spectacularly great start public-opinion wise.

The group are making their debut on August 1st, 2021—a mere month from now. What they’re releasing is still a mystery (a single? An EP? A mini-album? I’m as clueless as you are), but what we do know is that it’s going to be called DOUBLE DIP. I can vaguely glean the concept they’re going for from the name alone. Teeth-rotting, sugary goodness. The type of stuff that makes your mouth feel heady and vision swim. Or your ears bleed, depending on your opinion on the type of music that JAGUAR has put out thus far. Their styling seems to be heading in the same direction, as the explosion of colour that makes up their seconds-long teaser video is reminiscent of a handful of candy scooped up into the hands of an eager child.

CHERRYADE marks JAGUAR’s fourth attempt at an idol presence. Most of the hard work has been done for them, what with them lifting most of the members from other groups, but that in no way means they won’t meet the same failed fate as all of their predecessors. I feel that most deciding to follow the group will be doing so more out of morbid curiosity rather than genuine excitement for the content they’ll produce, and music they’ll put out. Right now they seem more like a ticking time bomb set to explode in an array of violently bright colours and burnt sugar than a group of boys that’ll be loved by the masses.

But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe CHERRYADE will be the success JAGUAR has so sorely been wanting, and for more reasons than how many times they’ve been caught smoking, or leaving shady love hotels in the earliest hours of the morning. Maybe the seven will actually grow to like each other, and they’ll replace the previous reputation they held—of catty and spiteful boys who were there for the money and to make the lives of people they didn’t like as unpleasant as possible—with one that paints them as genuine, likeable people. We’ll just have to wait and see.

DOUBLE DIP. Whatever it turns out to be, it’s dropping August 1st, at 2PM KST. Do make sure to tune in, if you want to see what all the fuss is about.

Or don’t. I suppose I wouldn’t blame you.

S(O)UL⠀⸻⠀@syoul

[enigmaticexplorer]

I Yearn, and so I Fear - Chapter XII

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

General Summary. Nearly a year since the Galactic Empire’s rise to power, Kazi Ennari is trying to survive. But her routine is interrupted—and life upended—when she’s forced to cohabitate with former Imperial soldiers. Clone soldiers. 

Pairing. Commander Wolffe x female!OC

General Warnings. Canon-typical violence and assault, familial struggles, terminal disease, bigotry, explicit sexual content, death. This story deals with heavy content. If you’re easily triggered, please do not read. For a more comprehensive list of tags, click here.

Fic Rating. E (explicit)/18+/Minors DNI.

Chapter Word Count. 4.7K

23 Melona

The meeting with Carinthia was quick. Kazi transferred the men’s datastick and Carinthia exchanged the Imperial credits. 

A cooler morning kept the warehouse’s temperature tolerable. It had been weeks since Kazi was last called here for network-related dealings, and even longer since the network’s contacts requested her to spy. She found the lack of both communication and work odd. However, there were more important things keeping her busy.

Her interaction with Carinthia was fairly quiet. Carinthia seemed more tense than usual, her words polished yet curt, her Inner Rim accent detectable. Kazi didn’t pay much attention to the exchange or Carinthia’s moodiness. Her mind was elsewhere, stuck like a fly caught in a spiderweb.

This morning, when she started on breakfast, she found a lumina berry already prepared. Long strips, somewhat jagged and imperfect, rested on a plate for Neyti. Chunks, cubed and proportional, cluttered a bowl.

Wolffe was notably absent from his usual spot, working outside, tending to his garden. 

Kazi regarded the lumina berry strips and chunks for far too long. Her mind whirred from confusion while something deep and inscrutable inside her warmed. 

The thought of Wolffe preparing the lumina berry bothered her. She had clearly been too open yesterday at the Marketplace. Too vulnerable. She didn’t want his fucking pity, and she had half a mind to call him out on it—

“I’m surprised you’re not married yet.”

The sheer randomness of the comment caught Kazi off guard, and she could only blink her confusion, eyeing Carinthia. 

Marital conversations she expected from Daria. But the opinion of a stranger, and especially the opinion of someone like Carinthia, both annoyed and unsettled her. Her bafflement must have been obvious because Carinthia shrugged, tucking a crimson curl behind her ear.

“I researched Ceaia when you first joined the network,” Carinthia said. “A woman of your age should have been married by now, and with two kids.” She sniffed. “Your culture emphasizes marital duty, yet here you are. Unmarried and childless, unless you count Neyti, whom I don’t.”

Electing nonchalance to defensiveness, Kazi shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “I never agreed with that part of my culture.”

“That’s not so surprising.” Carinthia snickered. “Your life has always been so easy. I suspect ignoring a major part of your culture’s expectations was something you could casually brush aside without fear of consequence.”

The condescension in Carinthia’s tone made her clench her jaw. Their introductions to the network differed, and even though their roles complemented one another, their interactions were few. But it was clear, from those few instances, that Carinthia didn’t care for her. Snide remarks, disparaging looks, tense disagreements.

“My life hasn’t been easy,” Kazi said stiffly. “I may not be a slave in one of the Empire’s mines, but not everything has gone my way, either.”

“No?” Carinthia picked at a nail. “You have a job. A home. You have people who love you. You’re safe and happy. Your life is the epitome of easy.”

Kazi had told herself the same thing over the last few months. The last decade. Her life was easy, her struggles were incomparable to those of others, and she had no right to complain. But there was one inaccuracy in Carinthia’s assessment: She wasn’t safe. And she didn’t appreciate someone like Carinthia judging her life.

“I’m not sure what your problem is”—Kazi arched a wry eyebrow—“but your life has been just as easy, if not easier.”

Anger flushed Carinthia’s face.

“You were born into a wealthy family on an Inner Rim planet,” Kazi said. “All you’ve known for the entirety of your life is luxury and wealth. You’ve probably never wanted for a single thing.”

“You know me so well.” Carinthia sneered, blue eyes cold and unfeeling. 

Kazi considered her for a moment and then shook her head. It was obvious Carinthia wanted an argument, but she wasn’t interested in one. Turning on her heel, she strode toward the warehouse’s door—

“I was forced into my marriage.” 

The words were hushed, and Kazi nearly ignored her fellow rebel, her hand poised on the door, but curiosity stalled her movements. Still turned away from Carinthia, she hesitated. Carinthia’s past wasn’t her business, and she had no desire to spend more time than necessary with members of the rebel network. Yet she couldn’t move.

“I was a dutiful wife. Obedient and loyal,” Carinthia murmured. “I was everything my parents expected me to be. What my husband and his mother expected of me. I was the perfect wife.”

Telling herself she would regret it, Kazi lowered her hand from the door and faced the other woman. 

Shadows embraced Carinthia’s lone figure. Mocking and delighted, they sunk her cheeks and nipped at her sharp collarbones. They dulled her eyes into vacuous pits of emptiness. 

“I was the perfect wife, until I lost my child.” An eerie smile sucked what little color remained in Carinthia’s face. “My husband expected a child. He said it was my duty to provide as many children as he desired.”

A hint of nausea curdled her stomach; an unnatural chill pimpled her skin.

“Losing my child…losing her was…” Carinthia shook her head, wiping at her mouth. “The Empire came to power shortly after and I refused to sit quietly while my husband supported Palpatine’s domination. I was ostracized from my family for speaking out, for losing my child, for not providing another so quickly. I ran away, got in contact with the network, and made myself useful.”

It was like looking through a window to an alternate timeline. 

The haggard face before her—the cold resentment and unfeeling disdain—belonged to the woman Kazi could have been if she hadn’t left her mother’s house. If she hadn’t found another opportunity. 

“My daughter would have been two today,” Carinthia said, her voice breaking. She glanced at the dusty windows lining the top of the warehouse, blinking away her emotion until a cool, unaffected mask sat in place. “Did you make it to the kid’s field trip?” 

Kazi regarded Carinthia carefully. “I did.”

A bird’s song eclipsed the silence between them. Kazi briefly considered offering platitudes of sympathy, but she knew Carinthia would dismiss them. 

“Have you ever been loved?”

The question was so casual and innocent that Kazi nearly laughed from its absurdity. It was the sincere curiosity on Carinthia’s face that convinced her to remain serious. To take Carinthia seriously. She answered truthfully, “When I was a kid.”

“I fell in love once,” Carinthia said. “When I was a young girl who knew no better.” 

Carinthia closed her eyes. Flickers of pale sunlight played along the planes of her face, softening the hurt deadening her features.

“I have found that love only leads to pain.” Carinthia laughed. Quiet and cold. “I used to crave that sort of intimacy more than life itself.”

Muscles stiffened down her spine and Kazi stilled. 

Long ago, when she was a little girl, she dreamt of falling in love. 

She dreamt she would live in the lighthouse. Revived and beautifully painted, it would be her castle. For she would be a princess, and one day she would meet a knight, and they would fall in love and she would never be alone. One day, she would never fear the indomitable vastness of loneliness. 

But dreams were fleeting and reality a wheel that crushed frivolous wishes and imaginings. She was a little girl who broke, and there was no knight to rescue her. 

So she clawed herself to safety, and it was isolating and exhausting, and she didn’t care for the progressive advice claiming she was brave and strong for standing on her own. She was tired of being strong, and she was tired of being alone. 

“I think you understand,” Carinthia said, “more than you let on.”

Kazi fisted her hands behind her back. “I’ve never fallen in love.”

“Why not?”

Once, there was a little girl inside of her who yearned for intimacy. Yearned for the vulnerability of trust. Yearned to be seen and known fully. 

But that girl was dead.

Kazi had killed her. 

Killed everything she represented: whimsical innocence of life; fantastical longing for companionship.

Most importantly, she killed the part of her that yearned for love.

Shrugging, Kazi opted for a lie. “I haven’t met someone I trust enough.”

“It’s hard to meet someone you can trust when you remain so closed off.”

Kazi scoffed, needing to lessen the intensity of emotions she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in so long. “Being quiet—”

“I’m not talking about a quiet personality.” Carinthia waved a dismissive hand. “I’m talking about vulnerability. Does anyone in your life actually know you?”

Kazi held Carinthia’s gaze. People knew of her. Old classmates at university, familiar faces at the harbor.

But she knew the truth. She knew there was a depth to the question most people wouldn’t understand; a depth she was all too familiar with. 

“Invulnerability will protect you from potential pain and hurt,” Carinthia said. Her smile was pitying. “It will also isolate you from meaningful companionship.” 

Chuckling uncomfortably, Kazi reached for the door. 

“There will come a day when you find yourself loved,” Carinthia said, approaching her at a non-threatening pace, her hands finding the pockets of her black jacket. “But that person will want to know you. They will want to know the best parts, and the worst parts, and everything in between. And one day, you will have to make a decision to either let them in or push them away.”*

A meter separated them. The icy blue of Carinthia’s eyes thawed. 

“What do you think you will decide?” 

The words plagued Kazi the rest of the day, containing a truth she refused to acknowledge or accept.

A truth that had haunted her for years.

28 Melona

Muted oranges fell prey to the darkening blue of the sunset.

Enjoying a cup of lemon juice she found inside the stasis along with a plate of warmed food, Kazi shifted her attention from the sunset to the people. 

Seated among the stalky ferns overrunning the backyard, Neyti was drawing on her sketchpad. Nearby, Nova was reading his datapad—most likely the scientific article detailing the creation of nysillin shots he had shared with Daria yesterday evening at dinner. 

At the edge of the jungle, Wolffe and Cody sparred, sweat dampening their shirts. Their muscles strained beneath the other’s fists. 

Wolffe jabbed and Cody sidestepped. A hand struck for Wolffe’s chest. He deflected it. A successive punch forced Cody to retreat. 

They seemed evenly matched, and while Cody was quicker, Wolffe was dirtier. A deflected strike turned into a well-aimed tap in an area that should have been off-limits. It earned a baleful glare from Cody.

The backdoor swung open, startling Kazi from her viewing, and she stiffened at the sight of her sister. Daria stilled, her lips pursing. They eyed one another, and based on Daria’s disgruntled scowl, Kazi expected their argument to renew. It was one signifier of their differing approaches to handling arguments.

Daria vocalized her discontent and issues, and she didn’t shy from engaging in heated conversations. If a problem existed, she confronted it. Once the argument ended, she moved on. Daria was quick to anger, but also quick to cool, so long as she believed herself and her ideologies to be respected.

Similar to her sister only in their defensive attitudes, Kazi preferred silence and avoidance in the hopes the argument would soon be forgotten. By others. 

Kazi never forgot conversations, and she never forgot the wrongs committed against her. There was an unintentional tallying list in the back of her mind. Categorized and kept locked away, she retrieved her list when an argument coalesced and she had to defend herself with the harbored evidence.

Until that breaking moment, she avoided possible arguments. Years with her mother antagonizing her anger, she learned it was best to mask herself. To pretend she agreed with someone in order to gain their approval. 

Teachers, parents, high society mothers. The masking protected her.  

Only seven days had passed since Kazi enforced the morning/evening potions but Daria looked better. Her cheeks maintained a healthy blush. The circles beneath her eyes were lighter. Even her honeyed hair appeared softer and fuller. Finger spasms and random sweats were notably absent.

Daria appeared the portrait of grace and poise she was known for back in their Reformist city. The youthful beauty and respectable personality mothers of high society males desired of a daughter-in-law.

A year ago, the rumor mill expected Daria to marry into one of the wealthiest Ceaian families. The day she turned twenty-five, per Reformist marriage customs, Daria would have announced her choice of husband, after seven years entertaining marriage proposals. 

Daria turned twenty-five this last Telona. And instead of marrying into a wealthy family and establishing herself as a well-known socialite, Daria would die young. Unmarried and childless.  

Marriage and children: the two dreams Daria had yearned for since they were younglings. Kazi had only ever related to Daria’s marital desires. Younglings were a different story, and one she never considered as a youngling herself. 

Daria had nurtured her dolls, and Kazi had nurtured her stuffed animals.

Their dreams were different, but back then, they didn’t care. They were excited for the other. Hopeful. And even after all this time, the only thing Kazi wanted was for Daria to be okay. To live.

Her sister’s withering glare made her heart sink. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat. “Thank you for dinner—”

Daria strode away, disappearing into the living area. 

Loosing a breath, Kazi faced the windows once more, folding her arms over chest. 

The sky was bruising. Neyti continued to work on her sketch, though she had moved to the table with Nova. Wolffe received a jab in his ribs. Cody’s smirk taunted him and the man faked two punches before kicking Cody in the thigh. From Cody’s outraged expression, kicking wasn’t allowed. Wolffe flashed his own smirk in response.

Near-silent footsteps entered the sunroom and joined Kazi at the windows. 

“When are you going to give Neyti the bird carving?” Kazi asked conversationally.

A strong nutty scent wafted through the air. From the corner of her eye, Fox slowly sipped his caf. Black caf lacking creamer or anything appealing. The chrono on the wall declared it was 20:30. 

“I haven’t decided if I will.” Kazi stared at Fox, waiting for an explanation. He released a heavy sigh. “She…doesn’t like me.”

The way he watched Neyti with Nova belied both the flatness and forced disinterest of his tone. Fox might have perfected a casual demeanor that hid most of his personal motivations and emotions, but Kazi knew he cared. She knew it, because she did too.

“If you give her a chance to get to know you—”

“Have you given her a chance?” He flashed her a taunting grin. “That kid wants to know—”

“It’s really none of your business.” Kazi tugged on the end of a braid, keeping her gaze on the two men sparring and not the curious little girl.

Fox chuckled lowly. “Wolffe complains about you using that phrase. Frequently.”

“Do you need something?” she demanded.

Amusement danced in his eyes and then sobered into contemplation. His expression was solemn as he said, “Sibling dynamics are never easy.”

Kazi dug her fingernails into her biceps to stifle a reaction, even as embarrassment warmed her face. The reason she worked so hard to keep her life private—the reason she locked away her emotions and hid herself—was to protect from the judgment and criticism of others. She knew she was imperfect. But it was humiliating when others realized her own flaws. 

“The oldest sibling believes himself responsible for the youngest,” Fox said. “He wants to protect his sibling. He wants to see his sibling succeed. And then you have the youngest. He wants to make his older sibling proud. He sees his effort and sacrifice. And he’s grateful.”

Outside, Cody landed a sharp jab to Wolffe’s ribs. Wolffe staggered back a step. He spat into the ferns and raised his fists, beckoning Cody forward.

“The youngest sibling wants the older sibling to respect him.” Fox set aside his mug, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “The youngest views himself as a burden. Or a responsibility.”

Kazi slid her eyes in his direction. “I thought you were a marshal commander. Wouldn’t that make you the oldest?”

“I’m not the oldest of my mates.” His chin dipped toward Wolffe and Cody. “I know my maturity makes me seem older.”

She snorted, and his lips curved into a half-smile. 

“It was Wolffe who dragged me off Coruscant,” Fox said, after a hesitant moment. “He forced me to leave. I didn’t want to.”

The confession surprised her. “You wanted to stay on Coruscant?”

“Wolffe showed up. Tried to order me around.” Fox breathed a rueful chuckle. “By that time, I’d been with the Empire for six months. I hadn’t deserted. And seeing Wolffe wasn’t easy. I’d thought he was dead. I’d hoped he was dead.”

Quick mental math explained the reason Fox refused to look in her direction. He hadn’t deserted until earlier this year. Around the time of the Purge, and only two months before the men arrived on Eluca.  

“I didn’t want Wolffe to risk his life for me,” Fox said. “And I didn’t appreciate him ordering me around. Telling me I needed to leave. I told him to fuck off. He stunned me and dragged me out. Got me off Coruscant.” Fox rolled his neck. “I woke up thinking he got me out because I was his responsibility. Nothing more. I found him in the cockpit and we got into a fight. Bruised each other up a bit. Had a nice long chat after.”

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Kazi reached for the white curtain near her, pretending to fix its tie. “But your situation was different. Daria is sick and unable to make her own decisions.”

Fox’s silence was intentional, and she chose to ignore it. 

“Thank you, by the way,” she said. He lifted a brow in question. “For the idea to repaint the front door and banister.”

Fox shrugged. “We’re here for the time being. Might as well make the house livable.”

Slightly offended by his comment, she wrinkled her nose. “The house was perfectly livable before you arrived.”

He threw her an unimpressed look. She rolled her eyes, reconsidering his statement. 

“You make it seem like you won’t be here for long,” she hedged.

“This is temporary.”

“But Wolffe is building a garden.” She waved a hand at the wired structure. “That’s fairly permanent.”

It sounded ridiculous, even to her ears, and she grimaced. But the thought of the men leaving, perhaps soon, unnerved her for some reason. Fox regarded her with a shrewdness that discomfited her further. A small line creased between his brows. 

“Wolffe and Cody are dedicated to the missions,” Fox said slowly. “I want to settle down. But for now, their focus is elsewhere.”

Surprised, she frowned. “You want to settle down?”

The thought of the men building their own home, possibly finding partners and having children, seemed a juxtaposition to the soldiers undermining the Empire. A quiet, domestic life contrasted the stressful, mission-oriented lifestyle they currently lived.

“I’m tired.” The honesty in his voice was detached, resigned. “We’re all tired.” 

Their sparring complete, Wolffe and Cody broke apart, joining Neyti and Nova at the table.

“They’re better at distracting themselves from it than I am.” Fox watched his brothers, his expression somber. “We all want the life we were told we couldn’t have. But they’re too afraid to go after it. So they’ll exhaust themselves with the missions ‘til they get injured enough they’re forced to stop. Or they’re killed.”

Malaise shivered down her spine and Kazi realized she was gripping the curtain so tightly her fingers were numbing. She loosened her grip, rubbing her hands together. “And you’ll follow them, even when you want to stop?”

“Always.” 

Kazi studied Fox, noting the circles beneath his eyes and the wrinkles marring his forehead. She wanted to tell him he deserved the quiet, simple life he desired. That they all deserved it. But it was obvious he already knew he deserved it, and her repeating it was unnecessary. Her thoughts must have translated to her features because Fox shrugged blasely, excusing himself and taking his cup of caf outside. 

Waiting a few seconds to give Fox space, Kazi approached the outdoor table. Neyti waved at her, her grin eager, and she proudly showed Kazi her new sketch—a portrait. 

For someone so young, the intricate details in Daria’s face—the freckles along her cheeks and the tiny birthmark on her jaw—were eerily realistic. Neyti even captured Daria’s gentle countenance and the kind youth in her smile. 

The portrait was a surreal reminder of the impending future: a contrast of Daria’s liveliness to her hastily-approaching terminality. Soon Kazi would never again see her sister’s smile. The healthy blush to her cheeks. The humored crinkles around her mouth. The adventurous twinkle in her eyes. 

Such reminders crawled along Kazi’s back, like a fishing hook trying to snag her muscles and drag her far, far away. She forced herself to focus on Neyti. To smile and compliment the artwork. To follow Neyti as the little girl set aside her sketchpad, approached the neighboring jungle, and determinedly trekked through the luscious flora. 

Eventually they found themselves wandering the perimeter of the lake. Neyti led the way. Every few meters she stopped to sniff a new set of flowers, and Kazi plucked a handful, twisting the stems into a small flower crown. 

Soon, Wolffe joined them, his silent presence comforting and welcomed, and when Kazi placed the colorful crown atop Neyti’s head, he complimented the style, earning himself a blushing grin from the little girl. And a small, appreciative smile from the crown’s creator.

Beneath the crepuscular sky, the jungle’s nocturnal fauna awoke. Bioluminescent flora silvered the soiled trail and mossed the trees. The lake quietly lapped at the shore. Stars winked their knowing mischief, mirrored across the lake’s stilled surface. Glowing pale green plants sprouted. 

As the sky darkened further, flickers of yellow scintillated. Lightning bugs. 

Neyti stood at the edge of the lake and regarded the bugs with childlike awe. Even Kazi considered them with intrigue. They landed on her arms, zapped her with their stingers, and then moseyed along their way. 

A hum of bugs and trills of nightly birds filled the clearing. Tension Kazi had held for months—for years—soothed into quiet currents she could easily ignore. It had been a while since she last appreciated the natural beauty of the world around her. 

“I saw you talking with Fox.” Wolffe stood beside her, their elbows grazing every so often, his voice quiet so that Neyti couldn’t overhear. “You get along well.”

An unspoken question, maybe curiosity, underscored his tone and Kazi searched his face. For once, he wasn’t watching her. Rather, he overlooked the lake, eyes skimming between patches of sparking yellow.

“We’ve talked a few times,” she said. Hesitating, she knocked her elbow against his—sportive in its intent. “He cares for you. A lot.”

“I know,” he said roughly.

Oblivious to their conversation, Neyti moved from the lake’s edge toward the fallen tree. She sat on its trunk and outstretched a hand. A few seconds passed before a lightning bug landed in her palm. Her soft inhale of glee reached them and Kazi felt herself smile. 

Wolffe sighed. “Fox has endured a lot.”

“You all have.”

“Cody and I had generals to rely on. When things turned for the worst.” He levelled the full weight of his gaze on her. “Fox didn’t have someone to share responsibility with. He was on his own for most of the war. And after…”

The nearby trees’ bioluminescence cast Wolffe in a silvery-blue light. It reflected in his cybernetic and swirled among the rich depths of his dark brown eye. His eyes wandered across her face, and each place they rested, her skin warmed.  

“Fox doesn’t open up much. And he keeps things to himself to lessen the pressure on Cody and me.” His probing look was exasperated and pointed. “He thinks he’s doing us a favor. But he’s not.” 

Kazi lifted her face toward the stars and one of Eluca’s rising moons. 

Sometimes Wolffe read her too well. 

“Are you insinuating something?” she said.

“You know I am.” His elbow bumped hers gently. 

“You said it yourself,” she murmured. “He doesn’t want to burden you and Cody.”

“Tell me, Ennari”—Wolffe leaned closer—“is that why you do everything on your own?” 

“We’re not talking about me.”

“Answer the question.”

Still observing the stelliferous horizon, Kazi swallowed, thinking about the tattoo inked into her spine. “Who better to rely on than myself?”

There was a pause and then, his voice quiet, Wolffe said, “I’m here.”

Starlight, like dewdrops, glistened; a small smile tugged on her mouth. “Is this an invitation to be friends?”

Wolffe chuckled. “Thought we already were.”

Kazi laughed, the carefree sound earning her a toothy grin from Neyti. The little girl waved in their direction and then chased after another lightning bug.  

“You have an odd view of friendship,” Kazi remarked. From the corner of her eye, Wolffe shrugged, his head angled back as he studied the silver-dotted canvas. She surveyed the unfamiliar stars too, seeking constellations she knew she wouldn’t find. Jokingly, she said, “You could do better.”

“I prefer you.”

Above the treetops, alone and bright, the first moon had fully risen when Kazi returned her gaze to Wolffe. He was already staring at her.

“My father used to tell me that life was about finding the little things. Finding them and enjoying them.” They were close enough she could feel the heat from his body. Or maybe it was simply her own skin blushing beneath his unwavering stare. “You went from war to desertion to these missions, and I want to know… Do you feel alive?”

Wolffe held her gaze for multiple heartbeats and then looked away. Looked toward the lake’s mirrored surface. 

The question was cryptic and obscure. A question borne from the safety of night’s vulnerability and spurred by the man whose hollow eyes were far too familiar.

“I’m not sure. I’m mostly surviving out of instinct. Keeping my brothers alive, rescuing other men. I haven’t had an opportunity since the war to figure it out.” He angled his face towards her. “You’re the same way.”

Kazi wanted to argue. To disagree and flippantly brush aside his statement as lacking true depth and understanding of her persona. 

She didn’t.

Because he was correct. She attended finishing school out of duty, and strived to succeed out of a desire to earn her mother’s recognition. To be perfect. The fear of marriage—the fear of never being enough for a happy marriage—enforced her decision to run away from home and attend University. It dominated her career choice.  

Daria’s disease, the Purge, Neyti. 

Hiding from the Empire, trying to start a new life, working for the rebel network.

It was different from Wolffe, their experiences incomparable: his survival driven by the raw, human instinct to stay alive; her survival driven by the basic human desire to keep existing.  

Long ago, though, she had known what it was like to live. It was a fleeting warmth she could still feel hints of, and yet, when she reached for it, it evaded her. Like a lightning bug uncapturable. 

However, in a clearing lit by bioluminescent matter and a single moon, standing close to a man whose gaze didn’t leave hers, Kazi didn’t feel so alone. 

“Being alive isn’t a crime,” she said into the silence, a subtle question edging her tone. Wolffe searched her countenance, just as she did his, as if they mutually needed the reassurance of the other. 

“It’s not,” he murmured. 

“Sometimes it feels like it is.”

Wolffe brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “I know.”

Bugs glowed. A frog croaked. More stars blinked.

The world existed, lost to its own machinations, and still their gazes lingered.

Masterlist | A Muse | Chapter 13

A/N: It’s intentional that both Kazi and Wolffe are trying to find meaning to their lives. This fic isn’t about them “saving” the other. They’re both broken people who are hurting, but they’re both also trying—for their families, for each other, for themselves. 

* Line inspired by Measure of a Man, Chapter 15: "You laugh now, but one day, you're going to meet someone and they're going to want more of you than you're used to sharing. They're going to want it all: good, bad, brilliant, and ugly. You'll have to choose between forcing them out or letting them in." His gaze returned to the heavens, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips. "I'm curious to see what you'll do."

[ynverse]

it’s a match - shush

CHILDE x gn! reader

“uhm,” you mumbled, turning towards childe, “hi?”

childe only looked at you and put a finger over his lips, a dorky smile on his face. you could only watch as a grown man, who willingly chose to sit next to you, shushed you. you weren’t sure if you felt more embarrassed or annoyed but you immediately tried to make yourself smaller.

“the 2pm appointment?”

the voice of an old man stopped your mind from spiraling over your first interaction with childe. your “partner” nodded his head and outstretched a hand towards you, frowning slightly as you stood up. he must have been insane to think you would reach for his hand after he told shushed you. you were already starting to regret your deal with venti.

“right this way,” the man motioned into his office, though you caught his eyes looking at childe’s hand.

he was already started to analyze you guys…how fun.

you and childe followed him, sitting yourselves down on a couch that sat across a single chair. still reeling in your embarrassment, you sat at the far right corner while childe sat at the far left corner. the atmosphere was almost suffocating as you desperately tried to find anything to look at.

“thank you for seeing us,” childe spoke joyfully.

“no need to thank me,” the therapist sat down and got out some sheets of paper and a pen, “i’m glad you two are here to better your relationship!”

you thought introductions and initial questions would be the most awkward but the therapist seemed to want to prove you wrong.

“i just feel like there are always walls between us. it’s as if we don’t really know each other.”

“childe, please refrain from generalizations and use i statements to talk about your feelings.”

“i’m sorry. i personally feel like we aren’t as close as before. sometimes, i feel like we are just strangers.”

it took everything for you to not laugh or cringe as he spoke.

“and y/n? how do you feel?”

“i don’t know?”

the whole idea was funnier in your head but having to try and gaslight a therapist was way more intimidating in action. you also wanted to hold on to the tiniest bit of pride you had left and it was slowly slipping as childe spoke. you did not want to be the problem in the relationship, fake or not.

“i guess i feel like childe doesn’t know me that well? so it’s hard for me to be open around him. i don’t doubt his feelings but i guess i think it’s…misdirected? like he is in love with the idea of me instead of who i am.”

you both thanked the therapist and went to the parking lot. both of you said nothing as you made your way out, only nodding your head as a thanks when one of you held the door open for each other.

“so…how was it?”

“childe…what?”

“did you think it was fun? like do you want to keep doing this?”

he seemed a lot more shy than before, trying to use hand gestures to get his point across. for the first time today, you let out a laugh. maybe it was the weirdness of the situation finally getting to you, but seeing childe ask if you want to continue therapy was the funniest thing you heard all day.

“is that a yes?”

“sure.”

“okay good,” he laughs as he grabs his car keys, “i can walk you to your car, if that’s okay?”

“oh, i didn’t drive here. i had my friend drop me off.”

“do you want me to take you home?”

childe noticed the way you stiffened a little, realizing how sudden it must have felt for you. he quickly waved his hands in front of him while speaking quickly.

“wait. i swear i’m not like a predator or anything i just feel bad cause i mean i am fake dating you and like what kind of fake boyfriend would i be…but you don’t have to agree because i know-“

“thank you. i’d love a ride.”

prev | masterlist | next

fun facts

the therapist’s first impression is that you guys aren’t dating for love but just to not feel alone (rude)

venti was in the living room with xiao and he laughed so hard when he read that childe shushed you. he started wheezing and xiao had to get him some water

you are definitely thinking about how he shushed you on the ride home

a/n: I KEPT CRINGING WHILE WRITING… like guys the second hand embarrassment i keep getting… like imagine having to look a therapist in the eye and lie like this

taglist [open]: @gekkow @aemiko @kamikoii @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @tsunotaro-san @dazaisboner @elektranxtchiios @hh0pe @softlie @akxtagawaxryxn0sxke @saeransblush @duckyyyx @iv-vee @brfrtbrt @ilyuu @eternal-dokja @boywxonder @sainthoma @ahnneyong @hollythius-rising @fallencrescentmoon @elernity

[ravelights]

So with the announcement of the last five chapters it got me speculating about the Future of MHA.

Now first things first I wasn't under any assumption that MHA wasn't ending, that's been pretty obvious. I always knew it would likely end in the next couple of months, but I always thought there would be maybe 10-15 chapters left so the five chapter thing really did surprise me.

What mostly surprised me is that the last two chapters we got seems to have set something up for the future (not to mention Hori comment about going back the the start). not to mention we got a new villain introduction, and also some general statements about how the world needs to recover that seems much longer then five chapters to cover. Now I do know several plot points will finally being tied up in the next five chapter, the Todoroki family is going to be this weeks, Ochako probably in the next followed by spinner and Kurogiri as well.

The deal with OFA could also be covered in a chapter as well but that would really be the kicker on the future of MHA because depending on the result it could possibly be a Segway into a sequel manga. I've seen some fan wonder what the reason for a sequel manga would be, but there is a lot of evidence and material that suggest that what's likely going to happen.

but the two big reasons right now:

Number one, it's just good business. MHA is arguably one of the most popular manga in the last decade, and I would be surprised if we don't get some type of continuation like a spin off or something and there's already been a few off handed comments about spin off with certain characters.

Number two, A new manga spin off would allow more open possibilities with writing. now this was in way back in 2016, but Hori has admitted on an interview, to thinking about a squeal manga that would take place with the kids being older and dealing with more mature themes. now MHA is no stranger to dark themes, but it does get held back by it's general rating because despite the dark moments, it's still a feel good story. To tell more mature stories in this universe would mean literally starting a new manga were that status quo can be established. And considering the last few chapters of the story has shown that the status quo in the world has shifted to something that can Segway into darker more mature stories.

Mostly my reasoning is that it's odd we are getting some build up for something that can't be cover in five chapters. I do see this era of the story heading for a conclusion, many other as well, but I also see the next era being established as well. That being said even if we do get a sequel manga we would probably have to wait for it, Hori has more then earned a well deserved break so don't expect any new content for the next year of so.

Looking forward to seeing the next five chapters and the conclusion!

[9leaguesofmirrors]

The Stranger (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

At this point, it's somewhat of a tradition that I start these things with a little introduction... but I don't know what to say

Um... have y'all had hard-boiled sweets before? They're good, aren't they? Love an old-fashioned sweet-shop!

OK, moving on!

CONTENT WARNING: Heavy cigarette usage and a scene involving shotgunning

As soon as Lisgoe was allowed through the doors of Death Trap, hearing the pounding of heavy metal from the inside, he welcomed the aggressive thumps that made his organs buzz and his bones rattle

He wasn't what people would call a "club person", but this place came as a reccomendation from a friend. It was cut-off from the rest of town, like an underground world where the people outside didn't exist. The only rock bar in Royston Vasey was like a hidden gem: live music on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, "club nights" on Fridays and Saturdays, and generally good drinks at a decent price

Plus, it was the only place that played his music

**********************************************

Usually, Ross would never set foot in a place like that

On his way to a more polite pub reccomended by a friend, his ears were caught by the cacophony of guitar, drums and... singing? Screaming? Whatever it was, it was loud enough to catch his attention

He knew he was going to hate it in there, but part of him was filled with a strange curiosity. If all went badly, he could just have a drink and leave, it didn't matter

It's not like this place would play his music

**********************************************

Holding a bottle of beer in his hand and leaning against the bar, Lisgoe looked around at the people around him. It was quite funny, being sober on a night like this, it meant he got to witness everyone else at their most unhinged state while he knew he'd wake up tomorrow without a headache or any regrets

For the most part, it was just laughter and talking. The music from the main floor carried through and many were still dancing along to that. There was a bit of a drunken spat breaking out in one corner, a couple making out in the other, but nothing all that interesting

Until his eyes chanced upon someone entering, looking around like he'd been knocked out and carried there unconcious. He wore a smart collared shirt, which was probably normal anywhere other than here. Those glasses weren't helping either, they just made him look more like a naïve newcomer

It was such an oddity that Lisgoe couldn't look away

**********************************************

It was as if everyone else had been given a dress code except for Ross. As he got caught in the swarm, all he could see was a whirlpool of black, grey and red. There were occasional sparks of other colours and tones, but there was clearly a trend

Despite it not being as packed as it looked on the outside, there were enough people for it to be difficult to get past - and he hadn't even gone close to the mess of people on the dancefloor

As he tried to make his way to the bar, he noticed someone staring in his direction. He blended into the crowds reasonably well, with his black shirt (with a weird logo on it, a brand Ross had never heard of) and jeans. Also black. He had a skull chain around his neck too- OK, which young adult's Tumblr did this man spring from? Trying to decipher his thoughts proved to be pointless, for all the gaze's intensity, it gave absolutely nothing away

Ross didn't speak until he was next to the man, looking at him pointedly

"Can I help you?"

As soon as the bespectacled stranger said that, Lisgoe knew his first assumption was wrong. There was a quiet confidence in him that both surprised and intrigued him, you really couldn't judge books by their covers - no matter how smartly designed they were

"How are you liking your first night?"

"Who says this is my first night?"

That caused a bark of laughter to escape Lisgoe's mouth

"Nobody dresses like that here, you look like your mam's dressed you up for a fucking school choir!"

"Oh," the stranger was slightly offended, yet managed to keep a calm appearance "and you're dressed any better? Do you feel special with your underground designer shirt?"

He really doesn't know what the fuck he's on about

"Yeah, love this brand." Lisgoe snarked "This is a really nice brand. Mhm. Iron Maiden: known for their clothing line!"

"... You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

"How very observant."

Lisgoe took another swig of his beer, observing the stranger. Poor bastard looked like he'd rather be anywhere than here. Death Trap probably wasn't the kind of bar he was used to

"It's a band," Lisgoe explained, as if he'd decided not to be a massive jerk for a bit "pretty well-known actually." He put his beer down on the counter "What's your name?"

"Ross. Ross Gaines."

"Fuck off, that's not your name! Where are you from? The 1800s?!"

Extremely put off by the stranger's attitude, Ross turned on his heels and left without another word. He might have been unsure of where he was going, but he figured he'd be happier being swallowed by a crowd of sweaty drunks than standing around being insulted by someone that looked like a member of the mafia.

It wasn't long before he found himself on the main floor, surrounded by those sweaty drunks he'd feared earlier. Suddenly, he was starting to weight up his options again - being insulted or being suffocated, what was worse? By now, it was too late. By the time he'd made it to the other end, Ross looked considerably less well-kept than when he arrived. Adjusting his glasses and straightening his shirt, he headed down a corridor until he came across a secluded seating area

Dimly lit, surprisingly nice-looking seats made out of what looked like fake leather. The music, though loud enough to bleed through the walls, was pleasantly muffled and, the best part, there was nobody here.

Ross let himself sink into the seat, leaning back and closing his eyes. For once, actually feeling at ease...

... Until he heard the one voice he didn't want to hear again:

"How was the dancefloor, Ross Gaines?"

Lisgoe watched, an amused smirk on his lips, as Ross glared at him

"A bit of help would've been nice."

"Wouldn't have done shite." He sat beside Ross, rummaging for his cigarettes in his pocket "Besides, the roughed-up look suits you." Taking out a cigarette from his little box, Lisgoe took out a lighter and lit the end before taking a long smoke

"Didn't know you could smoke here."

"Not sure to be honest, but nobody gives a shite either way." He handed the box to Ross "Want one?"

Ross shook his head

"I tried smoking once and never got into it," he said "besides, I think I inhaled enough of it on the dancefloor earlier. I don't understand why people enjoy it so much."

"Part of the scene, I guess. It's relaxing for me, but some people find it sexy. They'll shotgun anything that moves."

"Shotgun?"

Lisgoe looked at Ross for a few seconds, then massaged his temple, leaning on the backrest of the sofa with a sigh

"Shotgunning," Lisgoe held up a cigarette "involves sharing one of these. The smoke at least."

"I don't follow."

"I've only done it once, I was wankered and lost enough of my dignity."

It was weird, he'd only just met Ross Gaines- Ross, just call him Ross- and yet there was something about him that was strangely fascinating. He was completely out of his depth, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. Or maybe you would, he didn't try to hide behind bravado like some of the other prats at Death Trap, he was completely sure of himself. Yet, at the same time, that rigidness felt like such a drawback. Lisgoe wanted to see it falter, see him completely let go. Not just physically, like he was when he escaped the herd on the dancefloor, he wanted to see what Ross looked like when he really let loose. When that serious façade crumbled - when all that was left was ash, smog and fire. God, he wanted to see the fire in Ross

He held out the box of cigarettes

"It's there if you want it."

There was a moment of hesitation. Peer pressure never really worked on Ross but, even if it did, he wouldn't have felt that here. But there was something in Lisgoe's gaze, the way he was so still, the way his hand gripped at the box: there was something he wanted. Something that seemed to buzz through his veins and build behind his eyes in the form of pure intensity. Ross could tell he had it in him to be a very dangerous man, but he didn't feel scared in this moment. If anything, he was curious. Curious as to what hid behind that flame. What was burning in the pit of Joseph Lisgoe's stomach

He took a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He then watched as Lisgoe lit his own and moved the end of it to Ross' until both were alight. In a surprising move, Lisgoe discarded his cigarette onto the floor and placed his hand on the side of Ross' neck. The firmness of the hold combined with the icy coldness of Lisgoe's hand sent a chill through him. Ross watched as he put the cigarette between his two fingers

"Do you remember how?"

That made Ross smile smugly as he inhaled. He may have been rusty, and he could feel a cough bubble in his throat, but he managed to handle the smoke well enough that he didn't splutter

Fighting to keep his eyes on the cigarette and not on Ross, Lisgoe clamped it in his fingers and pulled it away. His hand moved to Ross cheek and he leaned in close, lips parted slightly as they brushed against his

Both their eyes were closed as they let the sensations wash over them. As Ross exhaled the smoke, he felt the gap between them closing. While Lisgoe's hands cupped at his cheek and neck, Ross' hand moved to his waist

Everything tingled and fizzed and popped, Ross' body relaxed while Lisgoe's seemed to ignite. There was a strange sort of opposition that melted into something that, against all odds, meshed together like fire and sparks

It was all so new to Ross. The noise, the claustrophobia... this. This feeling of give, complete surrender. He always felt that letting go of even a fibre of control was crushing and dehumanising. But this, he felt so in control that he could willingly give it to someone else - someone that he'd only known briefly. Which was crazy, he knew that, but it was a choice he made. And, judging by the way Lisgoe pulled himself closer, he knew it was a good one

Lisgoe swore he heard Ross moan breathily against his mouth, and it took every ounce of control within his mind and body not fuck him into the sofa right there and then. Control was never his strong point, but there was something in this stranger's - well, he wasn't a stranger anymore - collectedness that didn't completely extinguish the flame, but rather it contained it in a glass jar. It burned and jumped and roared, but it was all contained within Lisgoe's stomach. It clawed at him, but knew it's place

Reluctantly, he pulled away and leaned back, exhaling the smoke up into the air as he took a moment to compose himself

Thankfully for him, Ross was the first to speak, even if it was just to distract himself from the whirring in his stomach

"So... Iron Maiden's a band, is it?"

"Yeah. Heavy metal band. If you want something less guttural, go for black metal. Like Darkthrone, Darkthrone's my fucking shite!"

"There are different types?"

"Tons!"

That conversation carried them out of the bar and down the street, the night-time chill merely bouncing off them as they discussed various music. It turned out that a lot of the bands Ross liked fell under a specific category, one that Lisgoe had a few CDs for back at his house

Which is exactly how they ended up there

What happened after... well, let's just say it couldn't be explained away with music

[lieutenantn]

The Shy Boy

Note: I posted this a few months ago on Ao3, and only the link here, but I decided to post the whole thing here as well. Feedbacks are much appreciated! Life got in the way, so I decided to close this down on Ao3 as a one chapter thingy, but I really want to make this a series. I have ideas, I just need to sort out my life a bit more first...

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50082223

Relationships: Choi Jongho x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Reader is a singer as well, Reader Is Older, Only a year older than the oldest, Strangers to Lovers, Soju consumption, Kissing, They are a little drunk but not that drunk, Arguing about video games, About LoL, I play LoL but not an expert, are the tags okay?, idunno, Friends to Lovers?...

Summary:

As a foreign singer you got involved with The Ateez boys to shoot a series of games and challenges (like they always do that with kpop groups in Korea, as we know), and you caught the eye of none other then the maknae of the group. Is he really as shy as he looks like first...?

It wasn’t an unusual thing for k-pop groups to shoot a series. A series which is full of games, challenges and which the members partake in. The staff usually rent out a place, a house for them to stay in while the shooting lasts, generally for a few days, or maybe a week. 

What was unusual though, is this new project that some companies decided to participate in. They wanted to open up for foreign artists, maybe for possible future projects, songs, and to just encourage the fans outside of Korea to get involved with their groups more. This is how you found yourself in Korea. You were an up-and-coming artist, relatively still new in the industry, but one of the main things that you just loved talking about was your love for kpop music. That is why you got chosen, you weren’t entirely unfamiliar with anything. You also happened to know some stuff about Ateez. You liked their music, and a part of your fans who were also fans of them gave you a few crucial pieces of information about the boys. So you weren’t entirely unprepared.

Still, the first introduction was less of a success and more of you just embarrassing yourself. You were a little bit starstruck by their presence, your introvert self came shining through the confident wall you originally wanted to build up. You even tripped over some of your words, but they were very sweet towards you. Even though you knew them, their names and some basic information, and they also knew about you a bit, your name, your songs which was a very heartwarming surprise, you guys still introduced yourselves formally as well. Although you were older than them, only a year older than their oldest member, it didn’t feel like that at all.

You also knew that their youngest member wasn’t that big of a being-in-the-center person, but he seemed even more shy than the fans described him, and as you saw him in some videos. He still introduced himself to you, and after that went awfully quiet. What you didn’t notice is that his hyungs took a note of that too…

After some briefing about what is going to happen for the next few days, the plans where to go, what games you are going to play and so on, you went into another bigger room at the company’s building where the staff with their cameras were already set up. You were going to play a little game for a starter, to make it easier for you and for the boys to get more comfortable around each other. You played some ball games, football, basketball. Sometimes in teams, sometimes on your own. The boys got very competitive, very quickly. You on the other hand were just trying your best. You did get some points, so no complaining.

At one point you were divided into 2 teams, and you got into the same team with Jongho. After your turn and collecting some more points, you happened to flop down next to him when it was the other team’s time to put on a show. You were really impressed by the maknae, although he was very competitive, he was very talented too.

-You are very good at this! - you turned to him and went to pat his leg but you froze midair for a second. You remembered what your fans said to you: he didn’t like skinship. You immediately formed a fist from your hand and looked at him like you originally wanted to fistbum him.

-Thank you… - Jongho answered sheeplesly with light rosy cheeks, but accepted your hand.

Small steps, you thought. You didn’t know yet what to think about him. He was loud around his hyungs, smiling and laughing, and awfully reserved around you. But you just met not long ago, it must have been that. You tried not to think about the fact that maybe he disliked you and this whole idea, to bring a stranger close to them, even if for just a few days.

The staff didn’t prepare a lot of things for today, mainly wanted to shoot this game, and then you can go back to the dorm. When you got to the cars you wanted to stay back so the guys could sit however they usually do. You tried not to disturb their habits as much as possible. It’s true that you were staying with them, but that didn’t mean that you had to be in the middle of everything and be involved in every little thing of theirs. Somehow though, they managed to sit in a way that there was only one seat left in one of the cars, and that was next to Jongho. You fidgeted for a second.

-Come on, we have to show you around in the dorm and show you your room. - called out Hongjoong for you.

-Aye aye, Captain. - you said with a deep breath and climbed into the car.

-I liked that, keep calling me that. - he answered with a laugh and winked at you.

You smiled back at him and nodded, noted.

You still weren’t sure how the youngest felt about you, so you tried your best not to make contact in the crowded vehicle. But you did bunk your knees into him at one of the turns on the road. You whipped your head to say sorry but he was looking out of the window, like he didn’t even feel it. You immediately pulled back your leg as much as you could, even if it was not that comfortable, and turned back to your side as well. And then hit him again slightly with your knee. And again. On the fourth time you felt a hand grabbing your knee and pulling it to steady it. You looked down and saw Jongho’s hand on your leg as he was keeping it close to his leg, but he still wasn’t looking at you. He kept it there for a few seconds, then pulled his hand back into his lap. You figured he was okay with you touching him. The remaining parts of the car journey was uneventful, only the boys behind you were silently pointing at and talking about what just happened between their new friend and their baby brother. They were keeping a close eye on you two, without getting caught about it.

Back at the dorm the Captain showed you around, kitchen, livingroom, all the common rooms, and lastly: your bedroom. It was more than you could ask for: a big bed, a bigger wardrobe, and your own bathroom with everything you need. You were thankful for that: less potential awkward situations. Hongjoong left you to settle in. You unpacked some of your stuff, clothes into the wardrobe, toothbrush into the bathroom.

You just finished when you heard shouting from the living room. You changed into some navy sweatpants and a black shirt then went to investigate the noises. When you opened the door you saw Jongho exited his room as well. You were room-neighbours. Great. He looked at you confused.

-Noises?

-Noises.

You both nodded then headed towards the others. In the middle of the room, on the floor there were Yeosang and Wooyoung trying to put together a huge Jenga Tower. The younger looked at the two of you when you entered.

-Ah, thank God, can you help us? - he asked, looking at you for a second but immediately took a double turn. He looked you up and down then started grinning.

-What is it? - you asked, confused. Maybe you shouldn't have changed?...

-Look, you’re matching. - he said, while gesturing at you and Jongho with one of the bricks in his hand.

You looked down at yourself, turned to the man next to you and as you looked up at him you realised what the other one meant: navy pants, black shirt.

-I guess we both have good taste. - you answered, looking back at him confidently.

-You’re right. - he laughed, but you also heard a slight chuckle next to you. You turned and saw Jongho smiling to himself.

That made you smile as well. Small steps. Also, you could get used to that sound, you found his chuckle adorable. But you immediately blushed with your own thoughts, so you decided that it was time to help build that Jenga…

Eventually everyone joined to play with the four of you, making it again: a competition. After some shouting and throwing around bricks, Seonghwa became the one who lost, and with that the one who will pay for the diner. 

-We could go to that restaurant where we always go. - jumped up San, still a little hyped because of the game.

-The one with that roasted, spicy chicken?

-That’s the one.

-We always go out to eat on the first night when we start to shoot a new series. - Hongjoong explained to you quietly.

-Really? What a nice tradition. - you smiled at him, but it got you thinking. Maybe you should stay at home and cook a little meal for yourself. You were a guest, but it was their tradition, a team tradition.

-I think I’m going to stay home. - you called out when everyone got up.

-Why? You don’t like chicken?

-Of course I like chicken, but this is your thing. I’ll be fine, I’ll cook something.

-Are you sure? We would be happy if you came with us…

-I’m sure. It’s okay, we will have time to dine together. - you said with a confident smile.

-Alright. If this is what you want… - the Captain still wasn’t convinced.

-It is. Now go, you look hungry. - you laughed a little.

The team smiled at you then went to gather around what they needed, and changed if they wanted to.

You retreated to your room. This was going to be a fun few days. The boys were a little lot to you, but in the best way. You have already felt very welcomed, and were hoping for this feeling to become even better. You were debating in silence what to eat when you heard Hongjoong shouting.

-We’re leaving! Gonna be back in a few hours, don’t wait for us!

-Okay, have fun, take care! - you shouted from your room, and heard the door open and close.

Sitting on your bed you figured you should check what’s in the fridge and then decide what you could make out of it. When you went into the kitchen you saw someone sitting at the table playing on their phone.

-You? You didn’t go?

-Wasn’t in the mood… - Jongho answered quietly - and didn’t want to leave you alone either. I can help you cook, I know some stuff… - he looked at you questioningly.

This man.

-Okay. - you nodded, a little flustered because of the suggestion.

You quietly looked around in the kitchen and after some bantering you settled on some noodles and sesame chicken. You were a big fan of Chinese cuisine, so you were confident you could make it happen, even with a handsome man standing next to you, looking at your every move. You put on some water and spread out the vegetables.

-Can you help me cut these up?

-Yes.

As he passed behind you, you felt a hand brushing your back ever so slightly. You tensed up for a second, but didn’t look at him. You were glad you didn’t cut off any of your fingers at that moment. After Jongho finished cutting up the onions he directly continued with the carrots. You were stirring the noodles in their water when you turned to the boy next to you who was just about to touch his face. Without thinking you immediately grabbed his wrist. He looked at you surprised.

-I didn’t hear you washing your hands.

-…so?

-You were cutting onions.

-But I just wanted to move my hair out of my eyes…?

An “Oh” formed on your lips and you let go of him, slightly blushing for making an awkward situation. Again, great. You heard a slight chuckle.

-But thank you. - you looked at him smiling at you. Why is he so cute?

You turned back to your noodles like it was the most fascinating thing to look at them being cooked.

The rest of the cooking process went by silently, and when you put everything on the table the maknae took out some soju from the fridge, because “Soju goes well with everything”. You both looked at your creations proudly and dug in.

-So… - Jongho broke your silence eating after a few minutes - …what are your hobbies? Besides singing and dancing on a stage…

-I like reading…writing… listening to songs from other artists… the usual stuff… playing video games..

-Oh? - his eyes instantly perked up and it looked like his ears too.

-You play as well? - you smiled at him getting excited.

-Whenever I can. What games do you play?

-I like story based games mainly. I’m not a good gamer, but I still like to play competitive games every now and then as well…

-I like those too. Do you know LoL?

Now you were the one who perked up.

-Yes!... But I’m horrible at it… I have my moments but… No serious gameplay over here… - you shook your head slightly, giggling at yourself.

-You can’t be that bad… Well, you can’t be as good as me either, but I’m sure you can play… - he raised an eyebrow, looking at you a little mischievously.

-Oh yeah? What champs you’re playing? - the soju started to work.

-I play different ones like… Lee Sin… Viego… - he trailed off - how about you?

-I prefer ADCs… MF, Teemo…

-Khm-noob-Khm… - he said suddenly, faking a cough, waiting for a reaction. Your hand stopped midair with your chopsticks, mouth slightly open.

-…excuse me?

The next thing you knew the food was gone, you both were two bottles soju in, you were sitting on the kitchen counter while he was sitting on the top of the table. The argument of Which champ is better and What type of players play the different champions got way more serious than it originally started out.

-You can’t play jump-in characters because of your lack of reflexes…

-…did you just call me old indirectly?

-…maybe… perhaps… - he looked at you grinning before downing another shot.

-Alright, now you’re getting personal, I see. Listen here, kiddo, just because I’m older that doesn’t mean I have worse reflexes than you. Also, yes I am the older one, where is your respect, huh? - you answered acting like you got offended, but it wasn’t believable due to your alcohol level, and both of you knew he was just trying to rile you up. Which was working.

You jumped off and turned your back on him to put down an empty bottle, when you suddenly felt a hand grabbing one of your wrists and pushing you to the wall next to the counter. Jongho pressed you to the wall, hands on it next to your head towering over you.

-What did you just call me, ma’am? - he looked you up and down.

Is this still that shy boy from the afternoon…?

-Why? You’re not a kid? You definitely look like one to me… - you really wanted to sound confident, but your quiet voice was betraying you.

-Do you want me to show you how wrong you are?...

You felt like there was electricity between your bodies. One of your legs slightly trembled when he started to lean in. He didn’t let you break eye-contact. Your lips automatically opened up a little when you felt his breath hitting them. He stopped just a hair's breadth from you like he was giving you a chance to stop this if you wanted to. But you didn’t. When you didn’t move he kissed you. Slowly, patiently. It lasted only a few seconds, but when he pulled back a little, something took over you. Maybe it was the soju or still in the heat of the argument, but you grabbed him by the collar and crushed your lips to him. Before you could register what you just did you felt two hands moving to your butt lifting you up with ease. He pressed you up against the wall with his whole body. Your legs naturally closed around his waist, your hands moved into his red hair. You were just about to moan into his mouth because of the intensity of him kissing you and squeezing your ass at the same time, when the door to your dorm flew open.

-WE ARE…back? - a shocked Mingi looked at the two of you as you whipped your heads in the direction of the open door, breaking the makeout session.

Seven pairs of eyes were looking at you, and just as you were in the middle of wishing for the ground to open up under you and the fire of Hell consume you completely, because that would be way more comfortable than being in this situation, Jongho without a word pulled you off the wall and basically run into your room, with you still clinging to him for dear life.

He stood there with you in his arms after kicking the door closed. Then put you down carefully and you saw him being nearly as red in the face as his hair color.

-Listen, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it… Well, I mean I did mean it but… Didn’t want to… Umm… You know… - he stuttered in front you. You hold his face between your hands.

-Jongho… You’re adorable, it’s okay. - you smiled at him, reassuring him, making his blushing even worse with your comment.

-Would you like to… maybe… grab a coffee tomorrow morning? Before we start the shoot?

-I’d like that, yes!

You were smiling at eachother like teenagers.

-Then… see you in the morning.

-Goodnight Jongho.

-Goodnight, ma’am.

-Alright, listen- - but before you could finish your thought he pulled you in by the back of your neck and kissed one last time that night.

He winked at your flustered expression and hurried out of your room.

Just as he closed your door you heard loud whistling from the others, then a loud bang. Jongho from your room ran into his room. Tomorrow is going to be a long day…